Christmas Carols
by jackwabbit
Summary: A series of short unrelated holiday stories prompted by the daily window opening of an advent calendar on the Ancient Obsessions list. Multi Fandom. SG1, SGA, MacGyver represented. Various character foci. Summaries at start of each chapter.
1. Candles of Remembrance

Candles of Remembrance

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis 

Rated: PG

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Carson/Rodney Friendship, Christmas.

Season: Four

Spoilers: Miller's Crossing

Summary: Jeannie Learns Some Things About Her Brother…This Story Can Serve As A Prequel To My Series 'Madison's Moments'.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 1 (Candle) and December 2 (Nativity Scene)..._

_XXX _

I've never been a very religious person, but when Madison came home from school one day jabbering her little head off about wanting to be in a church Christmas play with a friend of hers who attends the little bible church down the road, I couldn't help but grin.

Not one to really care about such things, but catching Mad's excitement, I gave her permission to do the play, then promptly forgot about it in the bustle of other holiday preparations. Caleb took her to the rehearsals since they were on his day off, so I wasn't really involved.

That is, until yesterday, when Madison announced that she needed an angel costume and three bales of hay by tomorrow as casually as if she were asking permission to watch television.

I did a double take, but once I ascertained that Mad truly needed these things (turns out Madison's play director had given each child the task of providing something for the play), I did what all mothers have done since the dawn of time. Or at least since the advent of Christmas plays.

I made it work.

Angel costume? No problem.

White sheets, tinsel, garland, and a whole lot of safety pins did the job just fine.

Hay was another story entirely, but a thirty minute drive to the feed store (who knew we even had one of those in Vancouver?) got that taken care of. One day, I'll figure out why my child doesn't tell me things like this ahead of time. She's known for weeks about this.

Oh, well. Some things are just not meant for understanding, I guess.

Quantum mechanics? Not a problem.

The logic of a five year old? Much more complicated.

As the thought of physics crossed my mind, I closed my eyes and sighed.

Rodney.

I had completely forgotten he was due in today.

And Caleb had to work late last night.

So I spent the rest of my evening getting Madison fed, bathed, and in bed, then got the guest room ready for my irritating and annoying brother.

When I finally turned in, after nibbling on what Madison hadn't finished of her dinner for my own, I was tired, cranky, and not in the holiday spirit at all.

But now, now it all seems worth it.

My daughter is on the stage, looking radiant in her sheets, garland, and safety pins as she hovers over the Nativity scene that represents what Christians celebrate on this holiday.

My husband is sitting next to me beaming at his child.

And my brother, well, somehow my brother is the best of all.

He's here, too, and he's also beaming at Madison. I'm surprised to see his expression.

That is, until the play is over.

When all the children the leave the stage to snack on cookies and milk in the back room, the minister steps to the lectern and speaks briefly.

"What a wonderful way to celebrate the season. I always love the Christmas play. Seeing the faces of the children, and their parents, always makes me remember the real reason for the season. Family. And speaking of family, I'd like to invite everyone here, whether church member or not, to join me in a tradition of this church. Many of us have lost loved ones this year. This time of year is often especially hard to face without a dear friend or treasured family member. So we started this ceremony several years ago. There are candles in boxes at the end of each pew. Our ushers placed them there during the play. Anyone who wants to may go to the box closest to them, select a candle, and bring it to the front of the church for lighting by one of our young helpers here."

At this point, several teenagers filed to the front of the church, carrying small butane lighters.

The minister continued. "You can then place your candle upon the altar for all to see as a remembrance of your loved one. We will allow the flames to burn until each and every one of us has left for the night, and we'll relight them every night until Christmas to symbolize that our loved ones never leave us, but are alive in our memories forever."

I don't expect anyone in my group to participate, but I'm touched by the thought of this little tradition.

It's sweet.

I'm reminded of how lucky I am that my family is intact this year when Caleb reaches over to me and gives my hand a gentle squeeze. We had a close call a few months back, but somehow we survived, thanks in no small part to Rodney.

My brother.

Annoying and irritating, but still my brother, and still there when I needed him, even if he was somewhat to blame for everything that happened.

My brother, who still surprises me from time to time, and who apparently wasn't as lucky as I.

He's standing next to me, and the slightest sheen of tears covers his eyes.

As if he's in a daze, he makes his way past the other occupants of our pew and takes a candle from the box on the floor there. I can't even begin to fathom my brother doing this.

He's never been much for ceremonies and spirituality.

But as I see him walk to the front of the church and accept the flame offered by the young man there, I see something in him that I haven't before.

He sets the small candle on the altar and looks upward for a moment that will stay frozen in my mind forever.

His face is a mask of sadness as he mouths one word to the heavens.

It looks like 'always', and I can't help but wonder at the depth of his emotions.

It's not like Rodney to wear his heart on his sleeve like this, and I realize that I hardly know the man before me. My brother has changed in these last few years.

And suddenly it's clear to me how that's happened.

He's finally learned to put others ahead of himself.

And he lost one of those others.

I think I like him better now, and Lord knows we are getting closer all the time, but I wish I could have spared him from the harshness of this lesson.

Rodney turns and makes his way back to us.

As he does, his eyes meet mine and then fall to the floor.

He's embarrassed, and he stays silent and distant until the service concludes and we make our way outside.

Once we're out of the sanctuary, Madison runs up to us with arms wide.

"How did I do, Mom?"

I smile and pick her up into a hug. "You did great, honey. Didn't she look good, Mer?"

Rodney smiles back and nods. "Fantastic, kid."

Caleb agrees and I put Madison down. We start to make our way out of the church for the short walk home when suddenly Madison pipes up again.

"Uncle Mer?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Who'd ya like a candle for?"

I feel my eyes widen. I didn't know Madison had seen the ceremony. Guess the kids were at the back of the sanctuary by then. I start to correct Mad for her lack of tact (as if she can be expected to have any at her age), but my brother surprises me again by waving me off.

"Well, ya see, Madison, I had this friend. He was a great guy. He died early this year."

"What was his name?"

We're outside now, and Rodney takes Madison's hand and walks in front of us toward the house as Caleb and I follow them down the street.

"Carson."

"Do you miss him?"

Rodney hesitates, then answers in a rough voice.

"Oh, yeah, kid. More than you know."

We're home before we know it, but not before Rodney tells Madison a few stories about his friend and I share a secret smile with Caleb.

It's been a long time since either of us believed in Christmas miracles, but we got one tonight.

Our family is plus one Rodney McKay again, and while that sometimes seems a mixed blessing, tonight it seems just right.


	2. Spring

Spring

Fandom: Stargate SG-1 

Rated: PG-13

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Season: Pre-Series.

Spoilers: A Hundred Days (Characters From The Episode) 

Summary: Laira Comes Through The Winter.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 3 (Robin)..._

_XXX _

He'd died in winter.

Snow had covered the ground.

It hadn't been easy to bury him, but the local men had managed.

The women brought her food and helped with her son.

They'd done all they could to help her.

But eventually, as is always the case, she was left alone.

Alone with her pain.

She pushed it away as best she could.

After all, she had a child to raise.

But still, the winter was cold.

So much colder than it'd been before.

It was hard to walk alone.

She collapsed into herself.

She didn't leave the house. She barely remembered to bathe and eat. Her son sometimes cried for hours before she noticed him.

Slowly, the snow melted and the temperatures rose.

She did not notice.

She noticed nothing outside of her home.

Not until the day Garan shrieked.

He shrieked, as if in terror. This was no normal baby cry.

His fear stirred Laira to action as adrenaline flooded her system.

She found him in the main room of the house, his features frozen in horror.

His little head darted about, tracking an object that zipped around the ceiling with breakneck speed.

It took Laira a minute to see that it was a bird.

She sighed and tried to comfort her child. "It's ok, Garan. It's only a bird."

Laira opened the front door and tried to shoo the creature out of the house with a broom.

This served to only make the animal more panicked. It flew headlong into a wall and then fall onto the floor with a dull thud.

Garan calmed as the creature stopped moving.

Laira sighed.

'Finally,' she thought. 'Quiet again.'

She moved to pick up the bird's body, and was surprised to find Garan following her.

As she bent over to scoop up the bird, Garan surprised her by starting to wail again.

Laira picked up the boy instead of the bird and started to bounce him on her hip. "Sh. It's ok, my baby. You're alright. What's the matter?"

Garan looked down at the bird, then pointed at it. His little voice came out as a whisper.

"Daddy."

Laira's heart, which hadn't yet mended at all, ripped into a thousand pieces.

Garan made the connection that the bird was dead, just like his father.

Laira didn't know what to say. She hadn't thought that Garan understood about his father.

But he did.

Laira hugged Garan tightly to her chest and began to cry. Her response was so visceral she wasn't even aware of it. The tears she'd held in for so many nights fell hard and fast as her son latched onto her in a hug that was as tight as his little arms would allow.

Time slowed. Laira wasn't aware how long she stood there holding her son and crying, but eventually her eyes caught a tiny movement from the floor and her sobs eased. Garan calmed as well, and looked to the spot that had captured his mother's attention.

The little bird moved!

Garan's face lit with joy, and his fear of the creature was replaced by wonder.

Laira hurried to scoop the tiny animal up in her free hand while keeping Garan perched on her opposite hip.

She hustled out the still open front door and set the bird on its chest in the grass that was fighting its way through the melting snow.

It took a few minutes, but finally the little bird seemed to shake itself a little and come to its senses.

When it saw the humans looming over it, it quickly got its feet underneath its body and after a few wing flaps that seemed to be some sort of self injury check, it burst into the sky and flew off into the waiting atmosphere.

Laira smiled.

Not because the bird had lived, although that did make her happy.

She smiled because she suddenly noticed some things she hadn't before. The sky was blue. The bird flew. And most of all, the grass was beginning to show through the snow.

The world was beginning to end its long winter hibernation.

Garan plucked a short strand of grass out of the dirt and began to play with it in his hands.

Laira's smile broadened.

Her child was healthy.

The grass was emerging from the cold.

And finally, so was she.


	3. Snowflakes and Snowmen

Snowflakes and Snowmen

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: G

Category: Fluff, Ficlet, Gen, Team, Friendship

Season: Pre-Heroes, Post-Singularity

Spoilers: None

Summary: Sam Decides That Jack Just Might Be Right After All-At Least About This.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 5 (snowflake) and December 4 (snowman)..._

_XXX _

They say no two snowflakes are exactly alike.

I used to believe that.

Now, I'm not so sure.

I've seen too much to believe that things that were once considered impossible can't happen.

The odds against two flakes being identical are infinitesimally small, but not zero.

I've met two duplicates of myself, for cryin' out loud!

Granted, there were at least a few things that set them apart from me, but still…

We're a lot more complex than a snowflake.

We've got a lot more variables involved in the equation.

So, somewhere out there, the tiny piece of frozen water that touches my face now might have a twin.

Why not?

I'm roused from my thoughts by a chuckle behind me.

For a moment, I'd forgotten I wasn't alone.

I was lost in my theory.

He knows it.

His voice intrudes on my musings and brings me back to the present.

"Carter, stop thinking so much."

"How did you know I was thinking?" I defend myself out of habit.

"Oh, I don't know… maybe it was the far off look in your eye or your complete immobility."

He's got me there.

"Couldn't help it, sir."

He smiles. "Yeah, I know. But Carter?"

"Yeah?"

"It's okay to just enjoy the snow."

I look across the field we're standing in and see Cassandra building a snowman with Daniel and Teal'c, and I smile.

The Colonel's not one for coming up with theories.

At least not generally.

But this time, I think he's got a good one.

A snowball smacks me in the side of the head and I turn to see Janet Fraiser smiling and floundering away from me in the snow.

Yep, I think he's right this time.

And it just might be time to prove it.

She is so dead.


	4. A Holly Jolly Bit of Hell

**This Chapter Contains Adult Language**

A Holly Jolly Bit of Hell

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: R

Category: Jack Whump, Jack Angst, Dark, Christmas Reference.

Season: Pre-Series.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Jack's In Hell, But He Manages To Find A Bit Of Home.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 6 (Holly Wreath)..._

_XXX _

I lost count of the days long ago.

Dates are just arbitrary bits of numbers observed in the rest of the world.

Here, such things don't matter.

Here, every day is just one more chance to die.

One more chance denied to me.

But today seemed just a little longer than yesterday. The sun's been setting a few minutes later every day for the past week. The shortest days have passed. These things I notice.

Must be winter.

Near Christmas.

Christmas… does that even still exist?

Do people really celebrate out there still, while I rot in here?

In this little world of filth and stink and pain, it's hard to imagine that somewhere life goes on.

Somewhere, shoppers worry about whether to get the blue sweater or the green one.

That's funny to me, and I'd laugh if I could. But my swollen tongue and parched lips won't allow it.

Somewhere, trees are trimmed and turkeys basted and candles lit.

But not here.

Here, heat scorches you the moment to see the sun while cold freezes you in the dark.

Here, the air burns your lungs as you inhale.

The sand cuts you a thousand times with every move you make.

There are no trees here. There are no plants at all.

But somehow, in the corner of my dirt-floored shack, I see something I haven't before.

Grass.

Only a few blades, but present nonetheless.

I see it, but I don't believe it.

I'm finally losing what little I have left of my mind.

There is no grass here.

Just as there is no Christmas, and no joy.

There is only pain, hunger, and thirst.

I crawl to the mirage, desperate to see if it is real.

The rough blades seem to almost cut my fingers as I reach them.

It _is_ grass-honest to goodness real grass!

I put a piece in my mouth and I'm rewarded with a tiny bit of moisture to lubricate my swollen tongue.

I know I should eat it all. It's the only nutrition I'm likely to get today.

But instead I stop, as I feel a strange smile play across my lips.

I know I probably look deranged, and I most likely am; but I figure at this point, I'd be crazy if I wasn't.

I pull several of the sturdy blades out of the ground.

I sit cross-legged and study them. A strange thought floats through my foggy mind, and I can't let it go.

It's Christmas.

Out there.

In here, it's merely hell, but while my captors have my physical body firmly contained, they can't control my mind.

Dammit, it's Christmas in here, too.

Fuck them.

I play with the grass. Before I know what I've done, it's arranged in a little circle, complete with a two-dimensional bow.

My very own wreath of holly.

In my very own house in hell.


	5. A Day of Sledding

A Day Of Sledding

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG 

Category: Ficlet, Gen, J/T Friendship, A Bit Of Jack Angst

Season: Any

Spoilers: None Per Se. Mention of Charlie.

Summary: Jack and Teal'c Share A Day of Fun. 

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 7 (Sled)... _

_XXX _

Charlie didn't just love baseball.

He loved hockey, too.

Baseball in summer, hockey in winter.

Of the two, winter was his preference.

Man, that kid could skate.

Would've been better than his old man.

Would've.

Yeah… more like should've… sometimes it's like this.

Most of the time I can keep myself busy enough that I don't notice it, but… there are times.

Now is one of those times.

I do this only a few times a year, if that.

But sometimes I just can't help it.

The trunk creaks open and a musty odor escapes.

The contents haven't changed since the last time I opened this.

A hockey stick meets my eyes first. It's a pee wee stick, broken cleanly in two.

I did that.

I used to do things like that a lot, when he first left us.

Now, it's a rare day indeed that I lose my temper.

I move the pieces of the stick gently aside and slide my finger along the cold steel of a skate.

Little skates. Just right for a ten year old boy.

Under the skates are pads, gloves, and jerseys.

All unused in far too long.

I should get rid of these things, but I can't bear to part with them.

Sometimes, I just have to feel that a part of him is still with me, and this helps.

In some sick and demented way, refreshing my pain makes me feel better about his loss. I can't forget him if it still hurts to miss him, right?

Finally, in the bottom of the box, I find the book.

It's a photo album.

Just a small one, designed to hold about thirty pictures.

It's only half full. Most of the photographs are of Charlie playing hockey or skating. But one, near the back, is an exception. I've never really looked at it closely before, but today it catches my eye.

Charlie's on a sled. I'm with him. We're both rosy-cheeked and look half frost-bitten, but we're grinning from ear to ear.

I remember the day the picture was taken suddenly.

It had been a glorious afternoon spent on a hill near the house. Charlie was eight, and for a day, so was I.

I feel the hot prick of tears begin in my eyes, but I do not cry.

I might have lost the battle with my emotions, however, if not for a loud knock at my front door.

It forcefully shoves me back to the present.

I sniff once and pull my feelings back to a comfortable place before tossing the book back in the truck and slamming the lid shut.

I wouldn't normally appreciate this interruption, but it provides a suitable distraction from my mood for the moment, so I answer the door with a sense of gratitude.

A sense of gratitude that quickly morphs into amusement.

For as I yank open my door, I'm met by none other than Teal'c, dressed from head to toe in winter garb.

He's got one of those Jaffa smiles on his face that lets me know I'm in for trouble.

"O'Neill. I am glad you are at home this morning."

"Yeah, T? Why's that?"

"I wish your help with something."

Oh, this should be good. "What's that?"

Teal'c reaches forward to a spot I can't see next to the door. His hand returns with a bright red sled in its grasp.

"I wish to experience 'sledding', a sport I have read about on the internet."

I don't even want to know how T discovered sledding online, so I ignore that part of his sentence and focus on the part I can fix.

"Sledding isn't a sport, Teal'c."

"I believe it is, O'Neill. Do they not have sled races and competitions in your Tau'ri Olympics?"

"Yeah, but that's not that kind of sled, T."

Teal'c's brow furrows and I can tell he doesn't understand.

Suddenly the memory of Charlie and I sledding comes rushing back to me like a tsunami. I'm overwhelmed by the power of it, and it must show, because Teal'c looks concerned.

"Are you alright, O'Neill?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

Teal'c nods back, then questions me about his interpretation of things. "Am I incorrect in my understanding of the Tau'ri again, O'Neill?"

I nod again, then answer. "Yeah… no… well, sorta. They do have sled sports, but when most people talk about 'sledding', they don't mean those. They mean… well, it's kinda difficult to explain."

"Did I purchase the correct equipment?"

"Yeah."

"Then perhaps you can show me what you mean?"

I look at T for a minute, trying to decide whether I'm too old to go sledding, or if they're some other reason I shouldn't do this. A part of me doesn't want to be disloyal to my recent thoughts of my son by doing this, but another part of me begins to grin mischievously, and that part finally wins out.

I remember how I felt sledding with Charlie, and I figure it'd be wrong of me not to share that joy with Teal'c.

Finally, I answer him.

"Yeah, I think I can do that."

Fifteen minutes later, Teal'c and I are in the car driving a little park I remember that's got great hills.

Thirty minutes after that, I witness a Jaffa let go of the constraints that hold us all in place and speed down a hill on a sled like a demon on speed.

His laugh rings out through the nearly empty park (it is a school day after all) and I join him.

I don't know how long we played that day.

I only know we played.

And while things would catch up with me in the morning, I can honestly say that at least forty years fell away from me for one magical afternoon in the snow.

And a whole lot more than that fell off Teal'c.


	6. Three Wise Men

Three Wise Men

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Rated: PG

Category: Fluff, Ficlet, Gen, Team, Friendship

Season: Any

Spoilers: None

Summary: Sam's Proves Still Got It.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 8 (Three Wise Men)..._

_ XXX  
_

Drs. Rodney McKay, Radek Zelenka, and Bill Lee sat in frustrated silence.

Zelenka's mop of brown hair fell over his eyes. He idly fidgeted with it as he stared at the tablet in front of him.

Lee ran a hand over his balding brow and grumbled incoherently under his breath.

McKay leaned back in his chair and merely stared at the screen in front of him.

Finally, McKay broke the silence in the small lab.

"I just don't get it. It should work. Why doesn't it work?"

Lee sighed. "I don't know. You're right. It should work."

"Of course I'm right," groused McKay.

Radek sighed. "Don't encourage him. Obviously, we've made an error somewhere along the way. I say we go back and start over again… perhaps we will find the mistake that way."

Lee wisely stayed silent as McKay groaned. "That will take hours, Radek! It's got to be here. We should be seeing it!"

"Well, we're not, Rodney, so I say we start again!"

"You know, he might have a point, Rodney," agreed Lee.

Rodney lanced Lee with eyes that could've melted steel. "You two want to start over, fine, but I'm going to make this work."

Radek heaved a huge sigh and threw his arms up in the air as he stood and began to pace the lab. A stream of what could only be profanities flowed from his mouth in his native tongue. Lee grinned behind one hand and pretended to still be working as Rodney's gaze returned to his monitor.

Suddenly, a door opened. A cool breath of air from the outside hallway whooshed into the overly warm lab as Samantha Carter entered. She waved half-heartedly to the three men as she passed them. They all looked at her expectantly, wondering what she needed from them.

Sam noticed and smiled. "Oh, sorry, boys. Didn't mean to interrupt. Just needed this."

She picked up a small, unused laptop from the far counter of the lab and turned to leave.

As she crossed back through the lab, her eyes fell upon a projection of Rodney's monitor that was displayed on one wall of the lab that was serving as a virtual blackboard.

Sam kept walking, but her brow wrinkled ever so slightly as she did.

When she reached the door, she turned and spoke to the three men in the lab again.

"By the way, you missed a negative."

A small upward tug quirked Sam's lips and she left. As the door shut behind her, a curse from inside the lab turned her little grin into a full fledged, face splitting smile.

Rodney McKay's voice rang out, clear as a bell.

"Son of a bitch!"

Sam didn't laugh or break her professional demeanor in any way. She just kept walking.

But her steps were definitely a tad lighter than they'd been before.


	7. Angels Among Us

Angels Among Us

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG 

Category: Young Daniel (not Little Danny) Fic, Original Character Story.

Season: Any

Spoilers: None

Summary: Daniel Has Never Forgotten A Special Christmas Eve.

This One Is For The Brave Souls Who Foster And Adopt. 

_Written For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:_

_December 9 (Snow Globe With Village Scene Inside)_

XXX

Daniel Jackson hadn't spent Christmas at the same house since his parents died three years ago.

His folks had never been too into the holiday, so he really didn't miss any sort of family traditions too much, but he still felt the absence of his parents more keenly this time of year.

His mother had always tried to bring some sense of normalcy to her son's life, even when stuck in remote areas for the holidays. She always managed to find some nominal way to celebrate the season that swept folks back home completely away with its trees, gifts, and decorations.

Daniel remembered the silly things she had done, like making a Christmas tree out of bamboo sticks one year and presenting him with local sweets early in the morning the next year.

He missed her.

And all of the 'Christmas miracle' and 'Christmas is for family' messages that permeated the entire culture in which he was now immersed made him sick. There was no family for him.

And none for Chris or Johnny, either.

They were the only family he had, and vice versa.

And that, thought Daniel, was pathetic.

Sure, he'd been in this foster home for longer than he had been in any other, and it was a vast improvement over the others in many ways, but it was still a foster home.

And while Chris and Johnny had been with him almost the entire six months he'd been here, they were still only foster kids just like he was, not a real family.

Mrs. Fuller, a widowed empty-nester who was kind enough to take in those society had thrown away, tried her best to make her house a home for her three disparate boys, but Daniel still felt out of place. Chris and Johnny were both only one year older than Daniel, but they had been raised the same way as all the other boys in his school. They didn't understand why Daniel had never believed in Santa Claus at all or why he was more interested in reading books about ancient Egypt or Peru than the Jets or the Giants, the two professional football teams in the area.

But while he didn't always feel that he fit in here, Daniel was still a young boy, and so were Chris and Johnny. They still roughhoused and played like all boys of their age did.

And it was this play that led to the most memorable Christmas of Daniel Jackson's childhood.

It had started innocently enough.

It was Christmas Eve. The boys were out of school for Christmas break, and there was a raging snowstorm swirling outside. Mrs. Fuller had demanded that they stay in the house.

She should've known better.

Three tough as nails foster kids in New York could've survived a snowstorm. Even Daniel, with his very warm-blooded tendencies, had learned to deal with the winter well. But inside, well, inside those same three boys could wreak havoc in mere seconds.

And today was to be no exception.

It started early.

Chris and Daniel run through the house like monkeys on speed. Chris holds a small leather bound book high over his head in one hand and sticks his tongue out at Daniel as he runs.

"Give me that!" yells Daniel.

"No, way!" Chris shot back.

"It's mine!"

"Well, you shouldn't leave it laying around then! Finders keepers!"

Johnny takes this moment to pop down from the upstairs bedroom he shares with Chris and join the circus.

"What'cha got, Chris?"

"One of wittle Danny's pwecious wittle books."

"Lemme see."

"No. I found it. It's mine now."

"Aw, come on. What do you want with it, anyway? Lemme see."

"No. You'll just give it back to wittle Danny."

"No, I won't. Lemme see."

"No!"

Johnny and Daniel both reach for the book then at the same time, and Chris jumps up in the air to move it out of their reach. The bodies of the three boys all jostle together, and Chris lands several inches from where he jumped. He loses his balance. He falls, and six eyes widen in fear as he does.

Not because he's falling, but because of what he'll land on when he hits the ground.

Daniel and Johnny each grab one of Chris' arms to try to stop his fall, but gravity is too much for them.

They fall, too.

An earth-shattering crash rings out through the house as their fall is slowed by the coffee table.

All three boys end up in a tangled heap of arms and legs on the floor.

The coffee table is destroyed.

It was an ordinary table. One of those wooden box ones with a glass top. Nothing too extravagant or hard to replace. The boys know they'll be in trouble for breaking it, but if it wasn't Christmas, things might not have been too bad for them. They'd done things equally bad (and sometimes worse) before and come through them ok.

But it was Christmas.

And Mrs. Fuller collected those little ceramic houses that people display during the holidays.

The coffee table had been the town square of her little village.

Johnny, Chris, and Daniel were surrounded by little ceramic bits of townspeople, houses, and churches.

Wood and glass from the coffee table mixed with the remains of an entire civilization.

Daniel might have laughed if he'd thought of things like that, but he was too worried that he and the others would be kicked out into the snow for this one to think of much of anything.

All three boys stared at each other for about five heartbeats in abject terror before they could move.

By the time they started trying to dust themselves off and get away from the scene of the crime as quickly as possible, old lady Fuller came flying into the room to see what the commotion was.

'Well, there goes my twelfth birthday,' thought Daniel resignedly. Mrs. Fuller was going to kill them all. He just knew it.

Mrs. Fuller's initial reaction was just as the boys had expected. As they slipped and slid on the remnants of their accident and tried to stand up to accept their fates, her arms flew high into the air and she let out a scream that could've woken the dead. Her face was a mask of shock and anger.

"Oh, my God! What have you boys done? Come here, all of you. Get up. Get over here. Now. Be careful, boys! Watch out for the glass! Come on, then. Line up, right now. Get over here."

The three boys finally managed to stand and they slowly scuffled over to Mrs. Fuller with their heads hung low. It was time to pay the piper. Fuller had never punished the boys physically before, but all of them had had enough whippings in their lives to know what was coming. They were dead meat.

Johnny reached their foster mom first. As her hand reached out to touch his head, he involuntarily flinched away, expecting a blow that never came.

As Mrs. Fuller gently parted his hair this way and that, looking him over for cuts and bruises, Johnny's eyes, which had clenched shut, slowly opened again in surprise.

It was then that all three boys noticed the blood.

It was all over the floor, mixed with the other evidence of their mishap.

Daniel and Chris began to run their hands over their own bodies looking for injury as Fuller continued to examine Johnny.

Chris' hand came away from the back of his head covered in blood.

Daniel's right eye was rapidly swelling shut from an impact with some unknown assailant.

And Johnny had a pretty sizable cut along his left bicep.

Fuller sighed, then shook her head.

"Well, you boys sure know how to make Christmas interesting, I'll give you that. Come on, get your things. I'm no expert, but I think we need a few stitches here."

Twenty minutes later, three boys and one bedraggled middle-aged woman were loaded into her car.

Johnny had an Ace bandage wrapped tightly around his upper arm, while Daniel and Chris had ice packs pressed against their heads.

They all wore their winter coats, boots, and gloves, but none of them had even changed out of their pajamas under their winter garb.

The snow was still falling outside, but the roads had already been plowed, and Mrs. Fuller was a native to New York weather. She carefully backed the car out of the drive and headed to the nearest emergency care clinic, which fortunately wasn't too far away.

Daniel, Chris, and Johnny were silent the entire trip, which was a very rare thing indeed, but the fact was that they were still terrified of the fate that awaited them after they got patched up at the doctor's.

The emergency room was crowded when they arrived. Vomiting babies, elderly people with the flu, and victims of countless holiday accidents crowded the waiting room.

Three young boys with relatively minor injuries weren't exactly high on the priority list.

They waited for what seemed like forever before a young nurse ushered them into a curtained off area that was designated for lacerations. An intern sat there, looking like if he never saw another kid with a cut in his life it would be soon enough.

Johnny's wound was the worst, so he cautiously made his way to the doctor's table first.

Chris went next, and finally even Daniel received two stitches in his eyebrow.

Between them the boys had twenty-two sutures, and they would have been proud to show off their battle scars if not for the stern looks they were getting from Mrs. Fuller in the corner and if not for the CPS officer who had shown up just as Daniel had hopped up onto the examination table.

These boys knew CPS, or Child Protective Services, and they knew what was happening here. Mrs. Fuller had presented not one, but all three boys in her care to an emergency room for lacerations. CPS would have to investigate to be sure Fuller was not abusing the boys or hadn't allowed them to become injured out of negligence.

When the doctor finished with Daniel, the CPS officer turned to the boys, and they all knew what came next. The officer's words were unnecessary.

"Boys, I'm going to need to you come with me for a moment, ok?"

The boys nodded and then followed the man one at a time into a private room off one side of the waiting room.

Each child told his story, and when Chris, who went last, was finished, the officer emerged from the room and addressed Mrs. Fuller.

"Well, Edith, it seems the boys all say the same thing, and this looks like a simple, albeit rather unique accident. You know the drill. Someone will come round after the holiday to drop off the requisite forms and whatnot. For now, get these boys home, and have a Merry Christmas."

Fuller nodded and thanked the officer. "Thanks, Joe."

The officer nodded back. "No problem. You've been around a long time, Edith, and things like this are the reason you got approved for nine to twelve year old boys anyway, remember?"

Edith smiled. "True. They are a handful, aren't they?"

Daniel, Chris, and Johnny shared an indignant look as the adults kept talking.

"That they are, Edith. Most of our fosters stay away from this age group. Then again, most of them would have panicked this morning. You do neither. This will work out fine. Don't worry about it."

Edith nodded and then clapped her hands at the boys.

"Well, you heard the man. Let's get home. Get your hats and gloves on. Come on, then. Let's go."

The boys obliged and with a final wave to Joe, Mrs. Fuller took her surrogate family home.

XXX

Home was still a mess when they got there.

As the boys stepped out of the snow and into the house, their fear about their punishment returned as they observed Mrs. Fuller's sad little sigh as she looked down on the remnants of her holiday village.

They'd really screwed up this time, and they knew it.

But after a moment, a very strange thing happened.

Edith Fuller began to laugh. It was just a little giggle at first, but it soon became a chuckle, then a full body laugh.

Daniel, Chris, and Johnny exchanged concerned looks. They thought that surely Fuller had lost her mind.

Finally, Chris, the most outspoken of the group, asked what they were all thinking.

"What's so funny?"

Fuller looked down at the boy and wiped a single tear from her eye. She smiled a broad grin, and this confused the boys even more.

"Oh, it's nothing, boys. It's just…well… this reminds me of something I did when I was a girl. My brother and I were always fighting and wrestling and carrying on, and once we did something almost exactly like this. My brother's been gone fifteen years now, but I still think of him sometimes. This is one of those times. We had so much fun together… but man did we get it for breaking mom's china! Oh, she was hot."

Chris swallowed a mighty lump then and looked up at Mrs. Fuller nervously.

"I guess we're gonna get it now, huh?"

Fuller smiled in an understanding kind of way. "No, child. I'm not going to punish you. It was an accident. These things happen."

Three pairs of eyes grew wide in disbelief at her words, and Daniel muttered a response for the group.

"What?"

Edith's eyes found Daniel's and she smiled again. "I think stitches all around is punishment enough, don't you?"

Daniel nodded vigorously, amazed at his good luck.

But Fuller wasn't done.

"Oh, and you will have to clean all this up, or course."

The boys started to groan a protest, but it was silenced by a look from their caretaker. They all knew they were getting off light.

Mrs. Fuller smiled to herself as she turned and left the room. "That's what I thought. You boys know where all the cleaning supplies are. Mind the broken glass, and be careful. I'll be right back."

Fuller stepped into the kitchen for a moment, then returned to find the boys right where she'd left them. She put her hands on her hips and looked down on them with the most intimidating look she could muster.

"Well? That mess isn't going to clean itself up. Snap to it, boys!"

Six legs carried three boys out of the room and to the cleaning closet as fast as humanly possible.

Daniel, Chris, and Johnny returned with a broom, a dustpan, trash bags, and a vacuum and began their clean up as Fuller watched from the couch. She helped when the boys needed it and made sure they didn't cut themselves, but this was their mess, and she thought it only fair that they take care of it themselves.

It took a long time to clean up the mess they had made, and the carpet would need a good shampooing later, but the boys finally finished their task as the afternoon sun sank below the horizon.

As they finished, the boys looked to Mrs. Fuller for approval.

She smiled at them and nodded. "That'll do, boys. Now, what say we get some dinner? I'm sorry to tell you that due to our little adventure today we're not going to have a Christmas dinner tonight, because I couldn't start it on time, but I think the pizza place is still open. Does that work for you?"

All three boys nodded.

The pizza place was open, and the snow had stopped enough that they were even delivering.

And so it came to pass that within the hour, three boys and one middle aged woman sat down to a fine Christmas Eve dinner of pizza and breadsticks.

While they were eating, Chris and Johnny chatted idly about sports with Mrs. Fuller, but Daniel was silent and wore a slight frown.

Fuller noticed. "Daniel?"

Daniel looked up from his plate. "Yeah?"

"You ok, hon?"

Daniel nodded. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

Daniel shrugged. "Nothing. It's stupid."

Chris couldn't help but agree. "Yeah, like all your little books."

Daniel kicked him under the table. "Shut up, Chris. This is all your fault, anyway."

"Ow! Is not!"

"Is too!"

Fuller sighed and clapped her hands. "BOYS!"

Both Chris and Daniel fell silent. Johnny shoveled more pizza into his mouth and wisely stayed out of things, as was his habit.

"Chris, Daniel's books are not stupid. And don't let me catch you taking his things again, even if he leaves them out. Understood?"

Chris nodded while still glaring at Daniel. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now, Daniel, next time he takes your books, please come and tell me. Don't go chasing him all around my house wreaking havoc. Ok?"

Daniel nodded reluctantly, even though he knew that would never happen.

"Now, Daniel, what were you thinking about? You've been awfully quiet."

Daniel shrugged again. "Well, it's just… well…"

"What?" queried Fuller.

"The houses aren't broken that badly."

Fuller's forehead wrinkled like a raisin. "What are you talking about, Daniel?"

"The houses. I could fix them. Most of them, anyway."

Fuller blinked twice at the boy in front of her and didn't respond for a moment. Her silence was enough for Johnny to chime in.

"He's right. Most of them just broke into a few big pieces. We could fix them."

Fuller looked to the third boy at the table.

"What do you think, Chris? Up for some gluing?"

Chris looked at his plate for a moment and pushed his food around on it before finally mumbling an answer under his breath.

"I dunno. Might be kinda fun."

Fuller smiled. "You're right. It might. I think I've got some glue around here. We'll give it a shot after dinner."

The rest of dinner passed without incident.

When the plates were cleared and things put away, Daniel and Johnny retrieved the plastic wastebasket that held all the ceramic pieces of the Christmas village.

The rest of the evening was probably one of the most unique Christmas Eves ever.

Shards of ceramic were soon spread over the kitchen table, and glue was distributed to everyone. Three boys laughed as they attempted to put unmatched pieces of houses together, creating bizarre structures that no one could have ever imagined. A middle aged woman was young again as she joined them in their fun.

The dinner that was supposed to have been prepared for an evening meal for Christmas Eve was started in preparation for becoming a Christmas Day feast. And when all was said and done, a village emerged again.

It wasn't the same village it'd been before, but it was a village.

Of the thirteen houses that had formed the town square before, nine returned. The church wasn't so lucky, but its spire was glued on the schoolhouse, so the townsfolk still had a place to worship.

The catastrophe somehow managed to spare the citizens of the town, and the only fatality was the horse that pulled the carriage through town. He was laid to rest in the new pet cemetery the boys made on the outside of town.

They only stopped working on their village when there was nothing left to do.

It was long after midnight when the shards of ceramic were too small or too unrecognizable to be saved. All three boys were starting to wilt with fatigue, and Johnny was beginning to complain that his arm hurt.

Mrs. Fuller glanced at the clock and nodded. "Ok. Alright. It's time for bed, boys. You know it's a busy day tomorrow. But wait here for a moment. I'll get you something for your arm, Johnny."

Edith returned with three doses of children's Tylenol and made each boy take one for their new wounds.

As they swallowed their pills, all three boys made faces of disgust, then trudged off to bed without protest. They were tired. It had been a long day, and a longer night.

In the morning, the boys would wake to a clean house and find a few meager gifts under the small Christmas tree. They'd tear into them as all children do and then spend the rest of the day at the youth center Christmas party across town. Mrs. Fuller's dinner dishes would be devoured with gusto by the group there, and the boys would even get to watch a movie that evening with the other children while the adults got some well-deserved time off.

All in all, Christmas Day would go well for the little group, but when asked later about the holiday, every one of the boys and even Mrs. Fuller would retell the story of Christmas Eve.

It had been a good night, despite how the day had started, but such things do not last.

The investigation into the boy's injuries went fine, and Mrs. Fuller was not charged with any wrongdoing in the affair, but things change rapidly in the foster care system.

Chris was gone by Valentine's Day.

Johnny left around Easter.

No one came to take their place.

And finally, one day a few weeks after his birthday, Daniel bid a tearful goodbye to Mrs. Fuller, too.

Her mother had fallen ill, and Edith was needed elsewhere. She wasn't going to be able to foster children for a while.

Daniel would never see her or Chris or Johnny again.

He'd spend time in several more foster homes before he reached adulthood.

But he'd never forget his time at his favorite foster home, or the special Christmas eve that had earned him two stitches and what he considered his very first solo archeological expedition.

He'd never forget how that night had made him feel like he had a family again, if only for a moment.

XXX

Nearly twenty years later, a thirty year old archeologist stood apart from his friends.

There were several people in the room, and they were all chatting and drinking and generally having a good time.

It was Christmas, and this was a Christmas party.

Daniel had been socializing with his friends for the better part of the evening when something on the mantle over the fireplace had caught his eye. He felt his feet drawn toward the object and didn't realize he'd separated himself from the rest of the group as he walked to the mantle.

It was time to eat, and almost everyone else was making their way into the kitchen.

Everyone except one man, who sat in the oversized chair in the corner of his home and watched as Daniel Jackson picked up a snow globe on the mantle and turned it over twice in his hand before setting it back down. As the pretend snow fell on the scene in the globe, a small smile of wonder flittered across Daniel's face like a beam of light.

The observer smiled and pushed himself out of his chair. He quietly made his way to stand behind Daniel. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, but it still startled the younger man in front of him.

"Hey."

Daniel jumped. "Hey, Jack."

"What'cha doing?"

Daniel shook his head. "Nothing. This just reminded me of something."

Jack looked at the little globe on the mantle more closely. He didn't remember where he'd gotten it. It was just a little cheap snow globe with a village scene inside. A few little ceramic houses and a church comprised the interior of the globe. Nothing special.

But Jack could tell that it meant something to Daniel, and his interest piqued. "What?"

Daniel's smile grew. "Long story."

Jack huffed out a small laugh. "Aren't they all? Tell me later. Come on, food's getting cold."

Daniel turned to Jack and grinned. He saw his other friends over Jack's shoulder in the kitchen, and he nodded his assent to Jack's suggestion.

"Sounds good."

Daniel turned and rejoined his friends, reminded of emergency rooms, stitches, ceramics, and how all those things had come together to form a very bizarre Christmas Eve long ago that had given him a family again, if only for one magical night.

As the evening went on, Daniel pushed the thoughts of that strange night away from his mind and enjoyed the company of the present. Laughter and liquor flowed through the house easily. Jack, Sam, and Teal'c roped him into a game of charades at some point, and soon Daniel found that he didn't have to be reminded of family.

He had his right here.

But still, when it was quiet, in the lulls in conversation, Daniel's eyes would wander to the snow globe on Jack's mantle, with its little ceramic houses, and he'd wonder what had become of his friends from that night so long ago.

XXX

Sometime between Christmas and New Year's of that same year, Major Samantha Carter stepped into Daniel Jackson's lab and handed him a sheaf of papers. "Here's the report you wanted, Daniel."

Daniel lifted his head from his current project. "Thanks, Sam."

"What did you need this for, anyway?"

Daniel shrugged. "Oh, just curious about something."

Sam shrugged back, knowing that Daniel wasn't telling her the whole story but accepting that for now. She turned and headed back to her own lab.

When Sam was gone, Daniel stood and walked to the door. He quietly closed it and then returned to his desk to read the papers Sam had given him.

As he read them, a smile that could've powered a small city spread over his face.

XXX

Shortly after New Year's, a package arrived at the Saint Adelaide Senior Center in New York City.

It was addressed to a resident of the assisted living community that surrounded the center.

The orderlies delivered the package and promptly forgot about it.

It wasn't until one of their most mobile elderly women came nearly running into the main social room waving some pictures about that they remembered it.

Mrs. Edith Fuller was usually a quiet woman, but she still had her mind, and it was sharp as a tack.

She wasn't prone to outbursts or odd behavior.

But today was apparently an exception.

She burst into the rec room and started telling anyone who would listen that one of her boys had sent her a package.

The orderlies on duty shared a look that clearly said they thought old Mrs. Fuller had finally lost her marbles, but kept silent. She wasn't hurting anyone, and while they knew that Edith had no surviving children, they figured there was no harm in letting her ramble on about some imaginary son.

After all, Edith's two daughters had been killed in the same car accident that had taken her husband long ago. She deserved some measure of happiness in her old age, and if an imaginary son did it for her, they weren't going to argue.

Those sorts of things happened all the time here.

It wasn't until Fuller sat down and started spreading out pictures on one of the empty tables that they really took notice.

Another resident wandered over to Fuller and gaped at the photos there.

"He's handsome," remarked another pretty mentally stable patient.

Curiosity got the better of the nurses then and they wandered over, too.

They were amazed by what they found. Spread out in front of old Mrs. Fuller were several pictures of a handsome man who appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties.

"Who is he?" asked one of the nurses.

Edith turned her still sharp eyes on the younger woman and smiled.

"One of my boys."

The nurse blinked and started to feel a little sad. She hated this part of her job. She hated telling people things they should already know but that had somehow slipped away from them. "Edith, you know you don't have any sons."

Fuller snorted. "Shows what you know."

The nurse sighed.

Edith couldn't hear as well as she could when she was young, but she read the nurse's body language and pinned her with her sharp gaze again.

"I know you think I'm crazy, but I'm not. This is one of my boys."

The nurse nodded. "Ok, Edith. Whatever you say."

Fuller wasn't done. "I had a lot of them. Foster children, you see. All boys. Thirty-two in all."

The nurse gaped at Fuller. Could the old lady be telling the truth? Thirty-two foster children? All boys?

Edith continued. "Yes, siree, missy. Thirty-two young lads. All between nine and twelve years old. No one else wanted them, see. Hard age to deal with. But I didn't mind. Most didn't stay long, but some stayed a while. This one, I remember him. Stayed more than a year. He was my last. My youngest boy. My baby."

By this time, the nurse's hands had flown to her mouth and tears had sprung to her eyes. Could this possibly be true?

Edith looked up then and met the nurse's eyes. She smiled, then nodded her head gently. "It's true."

The nurse couldn't argue, and even if she could've, she didn't want to. The idea that this might be true was too lovely to let go of, and so she simply nodded her head in agreement.

Edith showed her pictures off for at least an hour to anyone who would look and listen, then carefully put them away again.

She waved good-bye to the nurses and other residents and made her way back to her apartment in the surrounding community.

That night, a little old lady would carefully fold a single sheet of paper around her precious photographs and place them back in the envelope that had carried them to her from Colorado.

The paper was a hand-written letter, and she already knew its text by heart.

Edith would carry the envelope to her dresser and carefully slide it under a very odd looking ceramic building that sat there.

The staff was always onto Edith to get rid of the ugly little model, but she would always just smile at them and shake her head no.

Some thought the building was a church.

Some thought it was a school.

Both groups were right.

Edith Fuller would read the letter from under the ceramic building many times, and she'd eventually take her favorite picture out of the envelope and place it against the church/school so she could look at it whenever she wanted.

Her neighbors would visit and ask about the man in the photo.

And she would tell them the story of a Christmas Eve long ago.

A Christmas Eve largely spent in an emergency room.

A Christmas Eve that allowed her to be young again, if only for a night.

A Christmas Eve that had given her a family again, ever so briefly.

Edith Fuller would live for many more years.

She would write back to the man in the photo, and he'd return the favor.

One day, she'd even receive a visit from him.

They would become fast friends, despite their age difference.

But eventually, as such things always go, Edith would leave this world.

She would die suddenly in her sleep.

She'd die alone, but in peace.

And on this Earth she would leave thirty-two souls that had been touched by her generosity.

Including one Doctor Daniel Jackson.


	8. Scottish Surprise

Scottish Surprise

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis

Rated: PG

Category: Humor, Christmas Fun, Double Drabble.

Season: Pre-Sunday

Spoilers: None

Summary: Rodney's Gluttony Earns Him An Unexpected Surprise At The Atlatis Christmas Party

This One's For Paul McGillion, Who Remembered My Name. 

_Written For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:_

_December 10 (Christmas Pudding)…_

XXX

It wasn't every day that the members of the Atlantis expedition were so well entertained.

Or so well armed for future blackmail.

After all, the sight of Rodney McKay serenading the entire population of the city with a throaty rendition of 'White Christmas' was one none of them would've ever believed.

But whether they believed it or not, it was happening.

And while everyone noticed the odd behavior of their chief scientist, a few noticed more than others.

Radek Zelenka looked happier than anyone had ever seen him as he took in (and recorded) every detail of Rodney's performance.

And as John Sheppard lost his battle to contain his outright mirth at the scene in front of him, he burst into a fit of laugher that made him look like a ten year old kid. When Rodney paused in his tune to breathe, and John regained the use of his voice, Sheppard turned to the usually serious Elizabeth Weir in the chair next to him and asked a simple question.

"Who did you say made that pudding Rodney was chowing down earlier?"

Elizabeth grinned back and spoke two words under her breath while giggling like a girl herself.

"Dr. Beckett."

XXX

A/N-for those who don't know (I didn't-fic teaches me so much!) Christmas puddings are true holiday desserts for our British friends, and they can have quite the alcohol content. I'm sure our resident Scotsman would flavor the old family recipe more than a bit. Cheers!


	9. Here We Come A'Caroling

Here We Come A'Caroling

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG

Category: Humor, Christmas, Team

Season: Pre-Eight

Spoilers: None

Summary: A Meal Off World Brings SG-1 Home In A Jolly Mood.

_Written For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:_

_December 11 (Christmas Carolers)…_

XXX

General Hammond stared down into the gateroom in morbid fascination.

He'd seen some crazy things in his days as the CO of the SGC, but this had to top all.

He hustled down to the gate and addressed the only member of his premier team that seemed to have control of his faculties.

"Teal'c! What the hell is going on here?"

The Jaffa looked to the balding man and actually shrugged. "I am uncertain, General Hammond."

'What happened out there?"

"Again, of that I am uncertain. Our mission was routine. The local villagers were cooperative and agreed to our trade negotiations. They were most hospitable. Upon hearing of our request, they invited us to dine with them in some sort of ceremonial meal to celebrate the making of new friends. I can only assume that something in the food or drink of the meal is responsible for the behavior of my teammates."

Hammond sighed. "Let's hope so, and let's hope it's not harmful. Get them to the infirmary, Teal'c."

Teal'c nodded and shepherded his team out of the gateroom.

They barely seemed to notice their surroundings, but Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson, and Jack O'Neill followed their friend, after waving cheerily to their commander.

They were too busy to actually speak to him.

For as the doors of the gateroom slid closed behind them, the General could still hear their voices ringing through the halls of the SGC.

"You better watch out!" That one was Jack.

"You better not cry!" And there was Daniel.

"Better not pout, I'm telling you why!" And finally, Samantha Carter chimed in.

General Hammond shook his head and laughed to himself, not envying Teal'c's task one bit.

He'd receive a report from Dr. Fraiser within an hour. SG-1 would suffer no permanent effects of what she found to be a drug-induced delirium.

Jack, Daniel, and Sam would claim to have no memory of their little caroling adventure, but it would take General Hammond a long time to clear the image of his best team singing in turn in full gear on the gate ramp from his mind.

And when someone cranked up "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" at the SGC Christmas party the following week, a shared glance and a chorus of stifled giggles would tell the General all he needed to know about his team's memory.


	10. Tinsel: Not Just for Decoration

Tinsel-Not Just For Decoration

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG

Category: Daniel Angst, Mild H/C, Jack/Daniel Friendship.

Season: Seven.

Spoilers: None Per Se, Daniel Ascension Arc.

Summary: Daniel Gets Some Unexpected Help With His Christmas Tree...And Himself.

_Written For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:_

_December 12 (Tinsel and Baubles)…_

_XXX_

The shards were beautiful.

Reds, greens, golds, silvers, and even purples tinkled in the fading light. The afternoon sun that barely managed to filter through the slants of the blinds illuminated the shattered bits of color in a gorgeous cacophony of color that bounced around the room and danced on the walls.

But despite their beauty, the shards were still merely shards.

They were still broken.

Shattered. Only remnants of what they had been.

Just like the man who sat among them.

Daniel hadn't meant to drop the box of glass Christmas ornaments, but as it slipped from his hand and fell to the floor, time seemed to stand still.

He made no move to catch the falling object.

It flew open as gravity mercilessly pulled it to the floor. The cascade of colored glass balls that was released into the air was truly a sight to behold.

For a moment, perfect spheres of wonder were suspended in the air like motionless globes.

But then they fell.

One by one, they smashed into the unforgiving floor and shattered into pieces barely reminiscent of their original form.

As the baubles broke, Daniel slowly sank to his knees on the floor in front of the mess he'd made. His task of decorating his first Christmas tree since returning from ascension was forgotten.

He'd been back with SG-1 for a few months now, and his memories grew more solid everyday, but still he knew there were things he was missing, and he felt their loss acutely as he stared at the broken glass.

He wondered if he'd ever be whole again.

Or if he'd remain only a shattered skeleton of himself.

Irreparable, like the ornaments on the floor.

Daniel picked up a larger piece of a blue globe and stared into it, hoping to see some sort of answer there. He didn't expect one, but he felt compelled to look anyway.

At first, he saw only himself.

But as he looked closer, he saw something else.

No, someone else.

Behind him.

Daniel's head whipped around in a near panic to look over his shoulder just as a rough masculine voice pierced the room.

"You know, that'd be a lot easier to clean up with a broom."

Daniel's heart rate slowed as he realized who his unexpected visitor was. "Jack! You scared me!"

O'Neill grinned. "Sorry about that, but I did knock. You seemed a little off today when you left the mountain. Came by to check on you. You didn't answer. I let myself in."

Daniel nodded. "Huh. Sorry."

Jack waved him off. "No biggie. So, what's up?"

Daniel shrugged. "Nothing."

"Oh, right," nodded Jack. "Sitting in the near dark staring at broken glass is normal behavior."

Daniel chuckled. "Actually, it's not real crazy for an archeologist."

Jack sneered. "Smart ass."

"Yeah, well.. I learned from the best, right?"

"Oh, very funny."

"Wasn't trying to be funny." Daniel stood as he spoke this time, and glass crunched under his shoes, which were thankfully still on after his little trip to the cold garage to retrieve his Christmas decorations.

"Well, whatever," groused Jack. "What say we clean that up, huh?"

Daniel nodded. "Good idea."

Ten minutes later, no glass remained on Daniel's floor. Little was said as Jack and Daniel cleaned up, but when they were done Jack turned to his younger friend again with concern in his eyes as he reached into another box and hung a little brass cutout angel on Daniel's tree without thought.

"So, you okay?"

Daniel nodded a little reluctantly as he followed suit and hung another ornament on the tree. "Yeah."

"Bad day?" Jack picked up a plastic Snoopy dressed as Santa and found a branch for it.

Daniel nodded again and placed a delicate gold star on a high branch. "Something like that."

"Memory?"

Daniel nodded yet again as he frowned into the nearly empty ornament box. "Yeah. It happens sometimes… still."

"Well, that's to be expected. You did come back from the dead, after all." Jack wisely commented as he reached past Daniel to grab a little reindeer. After placing it on the tree, he turned to find Daniel still frowning.

"What?" asked Jack.

Daniel sighed. "I don't have enough ornaments since I broke all those-the tree will look naked."

Daniel was nearly pouting, and Jack might've laughed if his friend hadn't looked so earnestly sad. Jack blinked in thought a few times, then smiled.

"Nonsense. We'll just cover it in tinsel, and it'll be just fine. Maybe not what it was going to be before, but just fine all the same. Better than fine, in fact."

Jack's eyes found Daniel's as he spoke, and both men knew that Jack wasn't just talking about a Christmas tree. A tentative smile pulled at Daniel's lips and Jack nodded slightly.

It was then that Daniel knew.

He'd seen his answer in the broken ornament after all.

He'd seen himself.

And he'd seen Jack.

Together.

Things suddenly didn't seem so bad to Daniel, and he smiled more broadly.

"Tinsel it is, then."

Jack clapped Daniel on the back and grinned. "Tinsel it is."

Both men laughed and grabbed the new boxes of tinsel from the assorted Christmas supplies in front of them.

When they were done with Daniel's tree, it looked like a shimmering ball of angel hair doused with icicles.

Jack leaned back and framed the tree between his hands. "Yep. Looks great. It's just right. I've always liked tinsel myself."

Daniel grinned but said nothing.

Jack left shortly after the tree was finished and nothing more was ever said about the evening between the two friends, but when Cassie asked Daniel why his tree was so heavy on the tinsel at a holiday party the following week, the archeologist merely smiled for a moment before answering.

"You should ask Jack."

Jack's head popped around the corner from the kitchen at the sound of his name.

"Ask me what?"

Cassie answered. "Why Daniel's tree has so much tinsel."

Jack smiled and stepped into the room.

"That's easy, Cass."

"And?"

"Well, simply put, you can never have enough tinsel."

Cassie laughed and Jack pulled her into a one-armed hug. "Now, come on, little lady. I've got something to show you."

Jack left Daniel alone then as he began to explain the finer points of preparing the perfect egg nog to young Cassie.

Daniel laughed to himself. He wasn't sure if Janet would approve of Jack's teachings, but he didn't have the heart to say anything.

For while he was physically alone for a moment, Daniel's spirit was warmed by the presence of his friends.

He glanced at his little Christmas tree for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing. He couldn't help it. There was more tinsel than tree there.

He was still giggling when he joined Sam, Teal'c, and Janet in the living room a moment later.

His memories were still sometimes elusive, and sometimes he grew frustrated with that, but he wasn't broken.

Not anymore.

A whole lot of tinsel had patched him up as good as new.


	11. A Letter To Santa

A Letter To Santa

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG

Category: Humor, Christmas.

Season: Any

Spoilers: None

Summary: Jack Tells Santa What He Really Wants For Christmas-Not What You Think!

_Written For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:  
December 13 (Letter To Santa)…_

XXX 

It was December in Minnesota, and a soft snow filtered down from the heavens, adding to the already substantial amount of the white stuff on the ground.

A beautiful cabin in the woods, lightly covered with a fresh coat of powder and complete with a soft curl of smoke rising from the chimney, made for a picture perfect Christmas card scene.

But the man inside the cabin certainly wasn't in the holiday spirit.

He sat on his couch, every inch of his body sore.

His joints ached and his muscles protested nearly every move he made.

He felt old and tired, and that put him in a rather crotchety mood.

He'd been dwelling on this fact for most of the night, and it showed in the nearly permanent scowl on his face.

But as he lifted his third beer to his lips, a random thought flitted across his mind, and then took hold of it.

The beginnings of a smile quirked his mouth upward just a bit.

The man stood and went to his computer.

He began to type, still smiling as he did so.

After several drafts and far too much worry about grammar and composition, he was satisfied with his work.

He leaned back and surveyed his message for a final time, then nodded with determination and hit 'send'.

_Dear Santa,_

_I've been a very good boy this year._

_And I really only want one very special thing for Christmas._

_Well, ok, so I've only been mostly good most of the time, and I'd really like a few things, like peace on earth and good will toward men, but Santa…_

_I'd settle for a snowblower._

_Sincerely,_

_Jack O'Neill_

Santa never received his e-mail, but two humans and a Jaffa did.

Colonel O'Neill never had to shovel snow again.


	12. Sweet Tooth

Sweet Tooth

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG

Category: Humor, Christmas, Gen.

Season: Any

Spoilers: None

Summary: Jack Gets Himself In Trouble. Daniel Helps Him Out. But At What Price?

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 14 (Candy Cane)..._

_XXX _

A weak light illuminated the forms of Jack O'Neill and Daniel Jackson in one corner of Samantha Carter's research lab.

A barely intelligible murmur came from Jack.

As the 'words' left the Colonel's mouth, Daniel sighed and immediately translated the sounds in his mind.

"Well," groused Daniel, "I might be able to 'hurry up' if you'd hold still!"

Jack squirmed a little and let loose another non-coherent babble in response.

Daniel didn't even bother to try to understand Jack this time. He was too close to achieving his goal. Daniel's face screwed up in concentration and he bit the tip of his tongue as he mumbled to himself.

"Still don't know how you managed to do this. Hold on-almost got it! Maybe if I use these pliers..."

Jack's eyes widened at the word 'pliers' and he settled down instantly. The idea of Daniel using pliers anywhere in the vicinity of his mouth was truly terrifying, and since Daniel's entire being was focused on the roof of Jack's open mouth, he figured shutting up was his best bet at getting out of his predicament with all his teeth intact.

Daniel reached behind him to Sam's workbench without taking his eyes off Jack's mouth. His fumbling hand soon grasped the pliers in question and returned to his task.

Daniel took a deep breath. "You ready?"

Jack's eyes met Daniel's ever so briefly. Jack nodded, taking a deep breath of his own.

Daniel swallowed. "Ok, then. Hold on."

Jack did as he was told. His fingers dug into the sides of his chair and he clamped his eyes shut.

After several seconds that seemed like an eternity, in which Jack was acutely aware of Daniel's fingers and those damned pliers knocking around in his mouth, Jack felt a sudden tug in the roof of his mouth. It was oddly painless, but Jack knew that Daniel's operation was successful by the whoop of joy that echoed around the lab.

"Yes! Got it!"

Jack's tongue explored his mouth and he smiled. "Thank God."

Daniel couldn't help but laugh at the extreme relief on Jack's face as he stared at the source of all this trouble. A two inch long perfectly straight section of a candy cane was protruding from the jaws of Sam's pliers.

Jack lanced Daniel with a glare. "It's not funny."

Daniel's eyebrows rose to record heights. "Oh, yes, it is, Jack."

Jack reluctantly had to agree. "Okay, so it's a little funny."

"It's a lot funny, Jack. I mean, how does the leader of SG-1, taunter of the Goa'uld and brave warrior, get taken down by a candy cane?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... they should put warnings on those things."

"Like what? Don't let Colonels eat small segments or they may become lodged between the teeth in the roof of the mouth? Come on! You couldn't do that twice if you tried! And at the Christmas party to boot!" Daniel burst out laughing, unable to contain himself any longer.

Jack pouted. "Yeah, well..."

Daniel continued to laugh. "You could've just let it melt, you know."

Jack rolled his eyes. "And drool all over myself until it did? I don't think so. Besides, it really hurt to have that thing stuck in there."

Daniel nodded as his giggling began to subside. "Whatever you say, Jack."

"It did!" protested Jack. "Anyway, thanks for getting it out."

Daniel never had a chance to respond to Jack's thanks, as the door to Sam's lab suddenly burst open. Carter herself stuck her head inside and looked at the two men questioningly.

"What are you two doing in here?"

Daniel's hand, still holding the pliers and candy cane, whipped behind his back on instinct and two male voices answered simutaneously.

"Nothing."

Sam gave her teammates an appraising look, clearly not believing them.

Daniel spoke again quickly. "Um... just needed a break from the party for a minute."

Sam still didn't believe him, but seemed to decide that finding out exactly what the Colonel and Daniel were up to wasn't worth the trouble.

"Whatever. I don't care. General Hammond asked me to find you. So, get out of my lab and back to the party."

Jack's eyebrows rose at Sam's tone. She noticed. "Um.. please... sir."

With that, Sam turned and left, clearly flustered. Jack laughed to himself.

Daniel quickly dropped Jack's nasty candy cane remnant in the trash and returned Sam's pliers to her workbench after giving them a quick wipe on his pants leg.

Jack nodded to the archeologist. "Thanks. I owe you one. I'd never live that down if she knew about it."

Daniel gave Jack a sidelong look and emitted a soft chuckle as the two men left the lab and shut the door behind them.

"Oh, I don't think you'll live it down now."

Jack's eyes widened briefly. "You wouldn't."

Daniel laughed. "No, I wouldn't. But... you do owe me. And I will collect."

Jack snorted back at his friend as Daniel rejoined the party. Daniel never heard Jack's response, or saw the grin that accompanied it.

"Oh, of that I have no doubt. But, Daniel, my boy... payback's a bitch."


	13. Secret Santa

Secret Santa

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: G

Category: Fluff, Humor, Christmas.

Season: Any

Spoilers: None

Summary: Daniel Finds The Perfect Gift For The Gift Exchange 

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 15 (Office Christmas Party)..._

_XXX_

Daniel Jackson hated the mall at Christmas time. 

He hated it even more than he hated the annual 'Secret Santa' gift exchange at the SGC Christmas party, and that was saying something. 

But, as fate would have it, here he was; in the mall, looking for his gift for the exchange. 

And, as luck would have it, he'd drawn none other than Jack O'Neill for his gift recipient. 

Now, some might think that it would be easier for Daniel to buy for someone he knew well, like Jack, than a total stranger, but Daniel thought differently. 

A total stranger can be given any old throw away present, but Daniel wanted to put a little thought into Jack's gift. He didn't want to give Jack something that would be tossed in the trash or re-gifted the following week. But he could only spend ten dollars for the present. That made things much more difficult. 

So Daniel wandered aimlessly up and down the mall, growing more and more irritated at the crowds and the endless fake holiday cheer as he failed to find something suitable. 

He'd been through almost the entire mall, scowling all the while, when suddenly his mood lifted. As he passed the "Everything's a Dollar" store, a smile finally spread over his face. 

It was right there in the window. 

The answer to his dilemma. 

Staring him in the face. 

Daniel hurried into the store to purchase the answer to his prayers. 

He was pleasantly surprised to find that the item that had drawn him into the store really was only one dollar, and as he looked around, he found several more suitable gifts in the immediate vicinity. 

Daniel left the store fifteen minutes later with nine small packages and enough wrapping paper to prepare all the gifts for the exchange. 

He was grinning from ear to ear. 

XXX 

When Jack O'Neill opened his 'Secret Santa' gift exchange present at the SGC Christmas party that weekend, he looked into the box with questions in his eyes for a moment. His confusion quickly passed, however, and an ecstatic smile spread across his face. 

Unnoticed by anyone, a matching grin was plastered over Daniel's face. 

His gift was a hit. 

Jack slowly lifted several small packages out of the larger box he'd opened. 

The first was a three pack of yo-yos. 

The next was a can of pick-up sticks. 

Then came a game of marbles. 

Then jacks. 

Then another pack of yo-yos, of different colors. 

After that, there was a pack of cards. 

Then a simple dice game and a package of little green army men. 

Finally, there was a three pack of vehicles for the army men-a plane, a tank, and a helicopter. 

Jack looked about six years old as he inventoried his goods. 

He seemed to be genuinely pleased with his loot. 

Daniel was glad he'd made a good choice for his friend, but the fun was only beginning. 

When the last few party guests made their way home for the evening, the only Jaffa present would still be searching for opponents to play his new favorite game of pick-up sticks. 

Jack O'Neill would be trying to convince anyone who'd listen that he really would give them a fighting chance at marbles if only they'd play with him. 

Sergeants Siler and Harriman would be engaged in a full-fledged battle with little green men that were obviously in the employ of the United States Air Force, not the Army. 

Daniel would join in for a while, then leave the boys to their fun. 

The smile on his face wouldn't fade for a week. 


	14. Mistletoe Moment

Mistletoe Moment

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG

Category: Gen, Christmas.

Season: Pre-Heroes

Spoilers: None

Summary: A Moment Of Introspection For Jack. (Again, not what you think!)

Written For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 16 (Mistletoe)… _

_XXX_

On the surface, Jack O'Neill didn't seem to be a very contemplative man.

Most who knew _of_ him wouldn't have thought of him as a thinker.

But those who knew _him_ would disagree.

Jack O'Neill could think with the best of them.

And tonight was a thinking night.

Despite the raucous reveling around him, Jack was lost in thought.

While Daniel danced with Janet and Sam attempted to explain the 'Chipmunk Christmas' album to Teal'c, Jack sipped a beer and sat comfortably in one corner of the room, thinking.

He was trying to make a decision, and he wasn't having a very easy time of it.

His eyes focused keenly on the source of his preoccupation as Janet joined Sam and Teal'c in trying to decipher why singing rodents were ever a hit and Daniel flopped wearily on the couch.

Finally, a slow smile crawled its way to Jack's lips, and he nodded slightly to himself.

As the nervous teenage boy who'd been Jack's focus from the second he entered the house finally mustered the courage to kiss Cassandra Fraiser on the cheek under the mistletoe Jack had meticulously hung over his door, Jack made his decision.

That single moment made things abundantly clear to him, and as pride battled with a bittersweet sadness in his soul, he came to a realization.

While there was a part of him that protested against it violently and wanted to use that violence on the adolescent male across the room, Jack knew that SG-1's little girl was growing up fast, and he couldn't deny that she was doing so with style.

As a soft crimson crept into Cassie's cheeks, Jack's smile grew.

His often quietly busy brain settled on one simple thought to express itself.

'You go, girl… but son, I'll be watching.'


	15. Elfin Magic

Elfin Magic

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: PG, Tissue Alert.

Category: Gen, Christmas, Team, Jack and Cassie Emphasis, Friendship.

Season: Four (according to Cassie's age), Then Eight.

Spoilers: None

Summary: There's Still A Bit Of Holiday Magic Left For Jack O'Neill After All.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 17 (Elf) and December 18 (Christmas Present)…_

_XXX_

"Oh, come on, Uncle Jack!"

"No way!"

"But no one else can do it, and if we don't have anybody, we'll have to cancel!"

"No!"

"But it's a really big fundraiser for us!"

"No, no, no! I'm not doing it!"

"But you'll be great at it!"

"I hardly think so."

"You will!"

"You're just saying that to get me to do it."

"True. But Uncle Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"We really do need you."

Soft brown eyes pleaded more than the words ever could.

A sigh was heard.

"Fine."

XXX

I can't believe I got roped into doing this.

Me.

Jack O'Neill.

Shanghaied by a fifteen year old.

It's ridiculous.

I can't believe they couldn't find someone else to do this.

I know it's for a good cause, but still…

I feel even more ridiculous than I look, if that's possible, which I doubt.

A glance in the mirror brings a grimace.

After all, the red coat, fuzzy pants, huge belt, and floppy hat aren't exactly my style. And I won't even mention the beard. Or the fake fat belly. The only thing that feels even vaguely familiar is the big black boots, and even those aren't mine. Mine would've been fine. These, well, not so much. They're ridiculous, like the rest of me, and I am not happy about this. Not one little bit.

I've got to be the grumpiest Girl Scout Troop 'Photos With Santa Fundraiser' Santa Claus ever.

But I agreed to this. Somehow, I said I'd do it. So here I am. The kids are already lining up outside, so I guess I'd better screw on a smile and do my part. Those responsible for this are going to pay later, though. Of that you can be sure.

I step out from behind my little stage door to the yells of small children. Their reaction is pretty much what I expected, and I take my seat with a fake grin plastered on my face. I wave mechanically and try to think about fishing. Or 'The Simpsons'. Or anything other than what I'm actually doing on this perfectly good Saturday night.

The first several kids are predictable, and they really do their best to bring any holiday spirit left in me down to a new low.

A boy wants the latest video game, even though he's only four.

A girl wants a new cel phone. She's six, for cryin' out loud!

Another asks for a Barbie DVD.

Two begin to cry the moment they see me.

One kid actually pees his pants.

And so it goes.

Child after child they come. Each one somehow more obnoxious than the one before. It's going to be a long night.

I play my part as best I can despite my inner mood, though, and finally it pays off.

As a scarecrow of a boy gingerly sits on my lap, I issue the cheeriest voice I can manage and ask the child what he wants for Christmas. He looks about eight years old and he's nervous, probably because he thinks he might be too old to be sitting on Santa's lap. He looks once over his shoulder at his mother and the line of kids behind him before answering in a soft rushed voice.

"I want hockey stuff."

I find myself intrigued. This is the first request for sports equipment I've gotten, and in today's world, I'm a little surprised to get it at all.

"What did you say?"

The boy's eyes narrow slightly. He's on to me. But he smiles anyway and repeats his wish.

"Hockey stuff. You know, pads and stuff. For a forward. I really wanna play hockey this year with a real team. I've got skates, and play every winter on the pond by my house, but I can't play on a real team unless I have stuff. And… well…"

I don't need any interpretation of the stuttering end of the boy's speech. I know the drill. I've been there. Most teams require kids to have their own equipment to play, and it isn't cheap. I take in the boy's clothes and the appearance of his mother behind him. They're not obviously poverty stricken, but it's plain that things are tight by the patches on the boy's jeans and the second hand look of his mom's coat. Something inside of this supposedly big, bad Colonel suddenly turns into a puddle of goo, and it's all I can do to not cry. I smile my best Santa smile at the boy and boom out a very confident assurance.

"Then you shall have it, my boy!"

The boy tries his best to smile like he believes me, but I know he has his doubts. As he jumps down and leaves the stage, I reach one hand out to Cassie, who's about to get the next child in line for their turn with Santa. She turns to me and smiles.

"Yeah?"

I nod toward the boy and his mother, who are leaving the area. Most of these kids are somehow involved in Cassie's troop, and their parents only bring them here to help out the girls. I'm curious if she knows this kid.

"You know him?"

Cassie nods. "Sure. That's Cody Timmons. He's friends with Angela's little brother."

I smile. "You know where he lives?"

Cass shakes her head. "No, but Angela does. I can find out. Why?"

My smile broadens. "Just got an idea. I'll tell you later."

Cassie shrugs and leaves to usher the next child to me. "Ok. Whatever."

The best elf on the planet sits the next child on my lap within seconds, and as I look up at Cassandra, who's come so far since I first met her, I grin.

She grins back, and suddenly my hearty laughter and Christmas cheer isn't so artificial anymore. A wicked idea begins to brew in the back of my mind, and it elevates my mood better than any drug.

Perhaps my enhanced mood makes me notice, or perhaps it's really true, but more children seem to start asking for things I consider more appropriate gifts for kids, like dolls and trucks and wagons and bikes and footballs for the rest of the evening.

By the time I spy a certain sandy-haired archeologist lurking behind the dwindling crowd, I'm in a decent mood, despite my initial lack of zeal for playing Santa.

Cassie's Girl Scout troop should come away with a good bit of money from their annual Christmas fundraiser, and one little kid is going to get a heck of a Christmas gift, so I'm feeling pretty good about myself.

Still, Daniel's presence concerns me.

I pretend not to notice him, and he pretends to not be amused by my fate, but he sticks around until the last child is gone and Cassie turns to me with open arms.

I pull my adopted niece into a hug. She mumbles into my chest and I smile at her words.

"Thanks, Uncle Jack."

I shrug. "Least I could do, kid."

Cassie laughs out loud. "Whatever. I know it was a lot to ask. So, thanks."

"Not a problem."

Cassie steps away from me and smiles a smile that strikes fear in my heart. She's up to something.

"What?"

She grins more.

"I just have one more favor to ask."

I feel trepidation build. "What?"

Cassie's grin suddenly splits her face in two. "A few more kids want to see Santa, that's all."

I close my eyes as Sam, Teal'c, and Janet step into view and join Daniel as he makes his way up to my little throne. So that's why Daniel is here-everyone came to see Colonel Santa Claus.

Teal'c has a full Jaffa eyebrow going on and a smirk dances across his face. Janet looks half drunk but is holding her laughter in pretty well. Carter's giggling as if her life depends on it. And Daniel, well, Daniel has tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

And frankly, I can't blame anyone for their amusement. This has to be pretty funny to them.

However, I can blame them for being here. I start with Daniel.

"Daniel, I thought you were going to be out of town this weekend?"

Daniel shrugs, but his voice won't come to him through his still raucous laughter, so I turn to Sam.

"Carter, didn't you tell me you were going to spend all weekend working on your bike?"

Sam's giggles turn into a full fledged laugh and she just shakes her head. I round on Cassie, the reason for all this insanity.

"Cassie, I picked you up tonight because you said your mom was visiting a sick friend, right?"

Cassie shrugs. "I thought she was. I must have made a mistake, Uncle Jack. Sorry."

Cassandra's tone leaves no doubt that she isn't sorry at all. Finally, I turn to the only person present who might take pity on me.

"Teal'c, buddy… what about you? Didn't you have tickets to a play?"

Teal'c inclines his head and looks at me sincerely. "I did, O'Neill. However, the tickets were for the matinee performance, and the play has already concluded. I came here afterwards to partake in a human holiday tradition that I have yet to accomplish. I believe it involves whispering one's desired Christmas presents to a man in a red suit."

At Teal'c's words, the entire group comes unglued. I decide I have to take a stand.

"Ok! That's it! I'm drawing a line here! No one, repeat no one, is sitting on my lap! I'm done with that for today! Not going to happen! Period. The end!"

My rant doesn't seem to impress my friends much. They merely stare at me and stifle giggles, then bring out the secret weapon again. Cassie sidles up to me and looks at me with those big brown eyes, and I feel my resolve start to waver. This kid is good.

"But Uncle Jack…"

I shake my head to clear it. "No. Not this time. Not going to happen."

"Come on, it'd be funny."

"No. But I have a better idea. Some of the other girls still around?"

Cassie shakes her head. "No, they've all gone."

I motion to the camera that had taken the pictures of the children all night. "That thing have a timer on it?"

Cassie nods, and her grin returns. "Sure does."

"Go set it. You guys get up here. Come on. You wanted Santa, you got Santa."

I'm not likely to forget the next thirty minutes anytime soon, and if I ever do, the photographs won't let me do so for long.

We take about twenty of them.

Some are serious, some not so much, but they're all fun.

When we finally get enough of playing with the camera, and every shot we can think of is taken, the gang lets me get out of my get up and into my regular clothes, complete with my own boots. Life is good.

We break up shortly afterwards and everyone heads home. It's been a bizarre night, but a good one. I fall asleep on my couch as soon as I lay down to watch TV when I get home, and I don't wake until the sun is high in the sky on Sunday.

XXX

When I wake, I go straight to my attic.

I don't have to look to find what I need.

It's right where I left it.

I'm drawn to it like a moth to flame, but I can't bring myself to touch it.

I sit up there for a long time before I make up my mind.

I don't know how long it takes.

But finally, with more than a few tears in my eyes, I head back downstairs and pick up the phone.

I make my choice.

Cassie answers the phone on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Cassie?"

"Oh, hey, Uncle Jack."

"Hey."

"What's up?"

"I need a favor."

"Name it."

"I need an elf."

"What?" Cassie's confusion is evident in her voice.

"You made me play Santa, I need you to be an elf again."

"What?" She still isn't getting it.

"Remember that boy from last night? Cody something?"

"Yeah. Why?"

I hesitate for just a second before plunging into my plan headfirst. "Well, you said you can find out where he lives, right?"

Cassie's voice is still confused. "Yeah. Why?"

A sigh escapes me. "Because I want to do something for him. I have a little Christmas present for him. But I need your help to get it ready and to deliver it for me, okay?"

I can hear Cassie's smile through the phone. "Ok! I can do that! Let me call Angela! I'll call you right back!"

And then she's gone. Oh, the exuberance of teenage girls.

My phone rings fifteen minutes later. I pick it up knowing full well who it is.

"Hello?"

"Uncle Jack?"

"Hey, Cass. What's up?"

"Got the address for you. What's next?"

"You think your mom can bring you by later? I need help with some stuff here."

"Um… hold on."

The next thing I hear is a muffled, but still very loud, Cassie voice.

"MOM! MOM! Can you take me to Uncle Jack's later today? He needs help with something! MOM? MOM!"

I can't help but feel a little sorry for Janet. Full time parenting of Cassandra has to have its challenges.

The next voice on the line belongs to none other than my personal physician. Her voice is sweet and sarcastic at the same time.

"Colonel? Is now ok?"

I laugh. "It's fine."

Janet's next words are clipped and short. "Thank you."

Fraiser hangs up the phone after that, and I know I'm saving her and Cassie from a world of annoyance by taking Cass for the afternoon. And I do need the help, so it's all good.

Although I've already made up my mind, what I'm about to do is going to be hard for me, and I need a little moral support, even if it's just from a fifteen year old.

XXX

Cassie arrives thirty minutes later.

By that time, I've eaten a bit of late breakfast, showered, and dressed.

Cassie bounds inside full of more energy than should be legal and hugs me.

"So, what're we gonna do, Uncle Jack?"

I extricate myself from Cassie's hug and step away from her.

"There's a blue Rubbermaid bin up in my attic. It's right next to a bunch of green ones and a red one. I need you to bring it down here to the living room. It's got a bunch of hockey stuff in it. So does the red one, but leave that one alone, ok?"

Cassie nods, and seems to finally understand what I'm up to, so I continue.

"Now, everything in there is new or nearly new, and it's clean. I think it will fit Cody just fine. I need you to wrap it up for me. There's paper in the hall closet and tape and scissors on my desk. Can you do that?"

Cassie nods again, this time with gusto, and runs off to the attic.

She's back inside of two minutes, with everything she needs for gift wrapping. I watch her from the kitchen as she prepares an area of my living room floor for the task at hand. She looks very nearly grown up, but still has a child-like wonder about her, and I'm in awe of the young woman before me. It seems like only yesterday that Cassie came into my life with all the grace of an atomic bomb. Literally. I still sometimes have night terrors involving little girls and long dark hallways in underground bunkers. It's so easy to get lost in the past.

Her voice soon breaks into my thoughts, however, and I come back to the present.

"You gonna help, Uncle Jack?"

I'd been hoping she wouldn't ask that. I want to do what I'm about to do, but it's still hard. It still hurts deep inside my bones. It still feels a little like betrayal. And truth be told, that's why I asked Cassandra to do this part. I'm not sure I can.

"Nah, you go ahead. My wrapping skills leave a bit to be desired. I'll watch from here."

She shrugs, accepting my response. "Ok."

Soon, Cassie is so absorbed in her task that she doesn't notice me or anything else. I sit at my dining room table and watch her through the window into the living room.

Each item she wraps feels like a little pinprick of conflicting emotion in my soul. I'm proud and glad to be helping someone else, and I feel joy at the fact that I can give a child happiness, especially at Christmas, but it's bittersweet. Each item means more to me than what it is.

The shorts he only wore once.

The helmet that took forever to find in the perfect shade of blue that he'd wanted.

The face mask he'd tried to not wear.

The shoulder pads/torso protector that had been just a little too small on him.

The shin and elbow pads that had barely taken a fall.

The gloves that matched the helmet.

Charlie had played forward.

He'd been a scarecrow of a boy. And like all boys, he'd grown like a weed. His hockey equipment, like his clothes, was worn for a short time then discarded for the next size up. That next size up was in the red bin upstairs-it had been his last set, and I wasn't ready to part with it yet. But this stuff was from the previous season, and it wasn't doing anyone any good where it was. I almost pitched it years ago, but now I'm glad I didn't.

Cody Timmons could use it, and somehow I knew Charlie would want him to.

And so I watch Cassie prepare Cody's gifts wrapped in a virtual cloak of bittersweet melancholy, knowing this is what I want but hurting just a little all the same.

She finishes in about thirty minutes and looks up at me. She holds my eyes for a moment, and despite her young age, she looks right through me. She's no stranger to loss, and I suddenly remember that I'm not the only person in the house intimately acquainted with grief.

I stand without realizing it and before I know it, I'm sitting on the floor next to Cassie. I open my arms, and she leans into them without hesitation.

I hold her as if my life depends on it. Somehow, we both know what is happening here is more than a mere gift wrapping task or a simple hug. We are two people hurting for a moment, and we need each other.

I don't know how long we sat like that.

I only know that when it's over, we both smile a little nervously and somehow feel better than we did before.

"How about lunch?" I ask, and the tension around Cassie and I diffuses like a drop of dye in the ocean.

Cassie smiles. "Sounds great."

Lunch consists of Chinese food ordered from the place down the road, and occurs without incident. Cassie and I talk about sports, school, and movies until Janet shows up to collect her.

That night, Fraiser does me the favor of calling Angela's mom and relaying a message to Cody's mother about the gift that Santa is bringing her son.

It's December twenty-second, so I have some time to figure out how I'm going to deliver my goods, and I fall asleep very late as ideas for that very task tumble through my brain like leaves in a windstorm.

XXX

When Christmas Day comes, I have a plan. I enlist Cassie to help again and we load all of Cody's packages into my truck. Cody's an only child, so we don't have to worry about any other gifts for the family, but I slip an envelope with his mom's name on it under one of the ribbons on one of his gifts as we pile them into the truck.

Cash is always a safe bet, you know, especially for a single mom.

We set off across town early in the morning, long before anyone else we know is up.

We arrive at Cody's house just as children start to rouse their parents and begin begging to be allowed to open their gifts.

I park at the end of the street and nod to Cassie.

We'd agreed that the best way to do this was to deliver the gifts in secret. Even though Cody's mom knew they were coming, she didn't know who was bringing them or how they would get there, and we didn't want any awkward moments.

So Cassie and I pile the gifts into a red wagon that I'd thrown in the bed of the truck and haul them to Cody's porch. Just before we reach the house, Cassie lays a hand on my arm to stop me. She looks me dead in the eyes with the same expression she'd had at my house when she wrapped the gifts. After a moment, she whispers up at me.

"You sure?"

I hesitate, then nod with more bravado than I feel. "Yeah. It's time, Cass. It's time."

She nods up at me and smiles a sweet, sad smile. I know she understands. We all have to move on from loss eventually, no matter how hard it is for us.

We start to walk again, and within minutes we're piling the gifts on Cody's porch as quietly as possible and then walking casually back to the truck.

When we reach it, I climb into the driver's seat and Cassie looks at me expectantly.

I nod. "Go on, then. Do it."

Cassie grins. This is probably the only time in her life that she will ever be given permission to prank someone. She takes off down the street. I start the truck.

Thirty seconds later, Cassie throws herself into the cab of the truck and tries to catch her breath. She's panting like a sled dog and completely red in the face, but she's done her job well.

Her knock was plenty loud enough to bring Cody and his mother to their door, and her sprint afterwards was fast enough that they hadn't seen her.

Cassie and I watch from the truck at the end of the street as two near strangers are overcome with joy at the gifts we'd left on their porch. At some point (I'm not sure when), Cassie reaches over and takes my hand. She squeezes it once as the last of our gifts disappears inside its new home, and I realize it's time to head back to our own homes.

I put the truck in gear and slowly pull away from the scene with a huge smile on my face.

Somehow, I know I'll never forget the day I finally shared my son with another, and I don't think Cassandra Fraiser will, either.

**EPILOGUE**

It's Christmas again.

God, what a year it's been. We almost lost Carter. Twice. We found Atlantis. I got frozen in ice for a few months, then thawed and somehow promoted to General. But all of that pales in importance to the fact that we lost Doc Fraiser, and it still feels like a ice pick is constantly sitting just under my ribs about that. Every now and then something yanks on it a bit and her loss hammers into me with the gentleness of a staff weapon.

Today is one of those days.

There's a small package on my coffee table, and it's the source of my pain today.

It's from Cassandra.

She's still away at school, but she'll be home soon.

As much at Janet's loss is still killing me, I know it has to be doubly hard for Cassie. This is the second time in her short life that she's lost her mother, and it's just not fair. I feel hard anger boiling in my heart as I think about the injustices heaped upon this girl.

It's not right, and frankly it pisses me off. The sight of Cassie's neat script on the package is all it takes to make me see red about her fate. I know she's strong, but how much can a woman be expected to take?

I don't really want to open this obvious gift in my current mood, but my hands need something to do to release my ire at this situation, and they tear into the paper surrounding the small, flat package with a vengeance.

When I see what's inside, somehow my anger flees and an open curiosity takes its place.

It's a magazine. Just a magazine, enclosed in a small flat box.

I turn the periodical over in my hands to read the title.

_Colorado Junior Hockey Bulletin_

What in the world? Cassie likes sports, but she's more into soccer and softball and track. She doesn't read hockey mags as a general rule, or at least I don't think she does. She's way too busy for that. Heck, even I can't keep up with the pros and college anymore, let alone juniors.

There's a small sticky note on the front cover, and Cassie's elegant writing guides me to a surprising answer.

_Uncle Jack-_

_I've kept on eye on this sport ever since Christmas four years ago. I can't help it. I've always been the curious type. I thought you might find page 29 interesting. Sometimes all it takes is a little nudge. Thank you for letting me be a part of this._

_-Cass_

I open the magazine to page twenty-nine with a thousand questions. What I find there answers them all. It's a full page ad congratulating the nine local pee-wee players that earned scholarships to play on the regional elite junior boys team, complete with a picture of all the kids. Right in the middle of the ad is a tall scarecrow of a boy who looks vaguely familiar. I scan the names under the photograph, and I feel the hot prick of tears come to my eyes. I try to suppress them, but I simply can't. A few escape and I'm not ashamed at all.

For right there, in black and white, a name beams out at me like a beacon on a foggy night.

_Cody Timmons._

I glance across the room to my mantle and see another photo there, this one framed and displayed with pride. My tears don't stop, but a smile spreads across my face and I realize that no matter what life throws at her, Cassandra Fraiser will be ok. My confidence in my girl is restored. She was right. Sometimes all it takes is a little nudge, and Cassie's gift (which will soon join the other photos on the mantle), combined with the photo already there, gives me just the push I need today.

And as I stare through misty eyes at myself dressed as Santa Claus surrounded by the best friends I've ever had, I count myself lucky beyond measure, despite my losses.

Janet's loss is still killing me, and I don't think I'll ever fully recover from losing Charlie, but maybe both of them were only supposed to walk with me for a short time on my path, to help guide me to now. And now feels like right where I'm supposed to be, thanks to Cassie.

A realization slams into me, and my smile takes on a thoughtful aspect.

I never used to believe that guy who said it was better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all, but today, I think he just might've been right after all.


	16. Bait and Switch

Bait and Switch

Fandom: Stargate SG-1 

Rated: G

Category: Gen, Christmas, Humor, Double Drabble.

Season: Any.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Jack Has A Little Fun At Daniel's Expense.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 19 (Last Minute Shopping)… _

_XXX_

Daniel stared at Jack as if he'd just grown a second head.

It reminded Jack of when Machello's bugs had made Daniel crazy, but this time Daniel's expression only amused Jack.

"What?" Jack asked innocently.

"What do you mean, what?"

Jack blinked. "Just that. What?"

Daniel threw his hands into the air and began to pace around his office. "You mean to tell me you honestly haven't gotten her anything yet?"

Jack grinned behind his hand. "Nope, sure haven't. Why are you so worried about that?"

"Jack, it's Christmas Eve. It's, like," Daniel glanced at his watch, then continued. "Four in the afternoon."

Jack stood up from his seat behind Daniel's workbench and stretched casually, then stepped to the door and pulled on his coat, still the focus of Daniel's disbelieving gaze.

"Good," smirked Jack. "And I thought I'd be rushed."

Daniel opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish out of water as Jack sauntered out the door.

Jack merely continued to grin.

He'd never let on to Daniel that he'd purchased Sam's gift weeks ago.

This was entirely too much fun.

And besides, he was still completely at a loss as to what to get Daniel.


	17. Playing Santa

Playing Santa

Fandom: MacGyver 

Rated: G

Category: Gen, Christmas, Humor, Pete/Mac/Jack Friendship, Double Drabble.

Season: Any.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Pete Has A Christmas Revelation About His Two Best Friends.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 20 (Santa's List)…_

_XXX_

Peter Thornton opened his latest Christmas card with trepidation.

The return address was that of Jack Dalton, and Pete was a little nervous of what he would find inside.

But as he opened the envelope and pulled out its contents, Pete smiled.

The envelope held not a card, but a single photograph of himself, Jack, and MacGyver.

A simple message, written in permanent marker, ran across the bottom edge of the picture.

_Three amigos forever! Merry Christmas, Pete. -JD_

Pete laughed as he looked closely at the photo. It was so very Jack Dalton. As he propped the picture against another frame already on his desk, he couldn't help noticing that he looked nearly old enough to be both Mac's and Jack's father in the photo.

That thought brought a bittersweet laugh, and Pete suddenly realized that he was awfully glad he hadn't been responsible for the two of them as children.

He could see it now.

He'd have played Santa for them.

He'd have had to decide on presents for the precocious boys.

Pete suddenly laughed out loud.

There was no debate how that would've turned out.

_MacGyver: Nice._

_Jack: Naughty._

Pete shook his head. Some things never changed.


	18. Lost In Translation

Lost In Translation

Fandom: Stargate SG-1 

Rated: PG

Category: Gen, Christmas, Team, Humor.

Season: Seven.

Spoilers: The Curse, Chimera. (Sarah Gardner Arc)

Summary: A Cultural Misunderstanding Leads To Some Fun For SG-1.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 21 (Mincemeat Pie, Whiskey, and A Carrot)… _

_XXX_

Sarah Gardner had had a hell of a year.

At first, she'd been nothing but overjoyed at the fact that she'd finally been freed from the internal prison that had held her captive for the last three years while she played host, literally, to the Goa'uld Osiris, but things had gotten very difficult for her almost immediately afterwards.

She'd tried her best to reintegrate into Earth's culture and her previous work as an archeologist, but it was hard. She found herself having flashbacks to things she'd done while under Osiris' control when she least expected it. She constantly marveled at the fact that her fellow Tau'ri were so completely clueless about the grand scheme of things. She couldn't free herself from nightmares that the Goa'uld, or beings much worse, were mere moments away from destroying everything she held dear. The pursuit of knowledge about ancient societies seemed somehow supremely unimportant in light of what she now knew.

The only person she could talk to about any of this was Daniel, but he was often unavailable to her. His teammates, especially Samantha Carter, helped when they could, too, but Sarah was mostly on her own in her battle. SG-1 had the SGC to help them when they struggled and to keep them busy. Sarah had decided to try to function out in the 'real world', and she often felt that was a mistake. It was just too hard to be the only person she knew 'in the know'. When others talked about movies or books, Sarah found herself distracted by thoughts of aliens, wormholes, and interstellar battles.

It was a lonely place to be.

But Christmas might be different. Sarah didn't have much family, and that she did have had thought her dead for the last three years, so things were more than a bit strained for any family gatherings.

So, in lieu of family, SG-1 was coming for dinner.

Sarah was living in Washington, DC now, and the team was in town for some sort of summit that apparently couldn't wait until the holidays were over. They were all pretty bummed about spending Christmas in DC, so Sarah had invited them over to celebrate the holidays. Carter, especially, was a little depressed about not seeing her brother and his family this year, so Sarah went out of her way to cheer the team up for the night she had with them, as much for herself as for them. The distraction really helped elevate her mood.

They showed up at six o'clock.

Sarah's carefully prepared dinner went swimmingly and led to drinks and conversation that seemed so natural that Sarah managed to forget her recent troubles for a while. It was so refreshing to not have to be careful of every word she said and to relax that Sarah was swept up in the spirit of the night. For these people, Sarah wasn't a freak or abnormal at all, but merely a victim of circumstance. They didn't find it at all odd to talk about symbiotes and plans for world domination. When Sarah had a memory of Osiris flash across her mind, Carter laid a hand on her arm and squeezed in support, knowing without words what had occurred from experience. For the first time in a long time, Sarah felt like she wasn't alone.

Sam and Sarah laughed several times at the juvenile antics of Jack and Daniel as more and more liquor was consumed by everyone present. Teal'c, as per usual, abstained from the alcohol, but even he loosened up as the evening wore on, and everyone seemed to have a great time.

The team stayed the night at Sarah's, out of convenience and necessity. Teal'c could've easily driven everyone home, but it was simpler to just sleep their liquor off where they were.

When all of her guests were asleep, Sarah crept into the living room as quietly as a mouse. She stepped over the sleeping form of Daniel Jackson on the floor and smiled at Jack O'Neill on the couch. Sam had taken the guest room, and Teal'c was sleeping on the floor there.

Sarah nearly giggled as she did something she hadn't done since she was a small girl.

She placed her offerings for Santa Claus on the small table by her hearth and crept back to bed, still smiling to herself.

XXX

Sarah woke the next morning to the soft sounds of conversation in the next room.

She heard Sam first. "Sir, don't you think it's a bit early for that?"

Jack answered groggily. "Shush, Carter. We're off today. And I don't remember you having any objection last night."

A loud guffaw, quickly stifled by Daniel, came next. When he spoke a moment later, Daniel's voice was muffled strangely. "He's got a point, Sam."

Teal'c's booming bass followed, and Sarah had to laugh as his usual response brought a course of giggles from SG-1.

"Indeed."

Sarah extricated herself from her blankets and went to see what her guests were up to.

When she entered the living room, she gaped at SG-1 for a moment then burst out laughing.

The sight that greeted her was too bizarre for any other response.

Jack O'Neill waved one hand in greeting while sipping on a small tumbler of whiskey.

Samantha Carter and Daniel Jackson mumbled 'good morning' as they packed away mincemeat pie with gusto.

And Teal'c nodded serenely to Sarah as he took a large bite of a carrot.

All four people were lazily laying on the floor in front of the hearth, where Jack had lit a small fire. They looked about twelve years old.

When Sarah recovered her ability to speak, she looked at each of them in turn and shook her head, then threw her hands up in the air and sighed to herself.

"Bloody Americans!" Her voice couldn't decide whether it was amused or irritated.

Sam, Jack, and Teal'c looked at each other in confusion, and Jack spoke for the group. No one noticed that Daniel's eyes had focused keenly on the floor in front of him.

"What? What'd we do?" Jack was the picture of innocence.

Sarah's eyes suddenly narrowed, but not at Jack. Her gaze focused on Daniel sharply.

"Oh, nothing of importance, Colonel. You only ate Santa's gifts, is all. But one of you already knew that, didn't you, Daniel?"

Daniel's eyes didn't leave the floor, but his hands began to play with the edge of his blanket, still spread on the floor in front of him. He was grinning from ear to ear, but he tried to hide it. Finally, after a long moment, he looked bashfully up at Sarah and shrugged.

"Well, to be fair, you know how I feel about mince pie, Sarah."

Daniel's eyes held Sarah's for a few heartbeats, and she was reminded of how things used to be between them. So much had changed, but so much had stayed the same for them. She wondered for a second if a relationship with Daniel was still possible after all they'd been through.

But she only wondered for a second. Any further thoughts were interrupted by Jack O'Neill.

A pillow smacked Daniel in the back of the head. Daniel's focus shifted to Jack, who was holding said pillow tightly, ready to strike again.

"You knew this was Santa stuff?"

Daniel shrugged again. "Well, yeah…"

Jack stared at him incredulously. Sam joined in the attack. "And you let us eat it?"

Daniel rounded on his friends. "Well, yeah… what difference does it make? There's no kids here. And even if there were, Santa is supposed to eat the food, right?"

Jack raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Fine. You have a point. Still, you're not supposed to eat all of Santa's food. We annihilated this stuff. Speaking of which, what is this stuff, anyway? Not anything I've ever seen put out for Santa."

Sarah giggled under her breath. "It's what kids put out for Santa Claus in England, Colonel. You know, Britain. Where I'm from."

A light of understanding came on over Jack's head. "Oh, right. Got it."

Teal'c, who had been as silent as usual through this interaction, finally spoke. "What is the significance of the carrots?"

Carter, ever the brilliant scientist, answered before Sarah had a chance. "For the reindeer, right, Sarah?"

Sarah nodded and joined SG-1 on the floor. There wasn't much pie left, and she figured that if she wanted any, it was definitely a case of 'if you can't beat them, join them' here.

The team made room for her on the floor. Teal'c nodded in understanding of the carrot's intended use, and silence fell for a moment as everyone snacked.

After a moment, Jack spoke thoughtfully. All heads turned toward him.

"You know, Sarah, I've got to hand it to you Brits."

Sarah's brow furrowed. "Why?"

Jack pursed his lips and took a small sip of his dwindling whiskey, then responded simply.

"Cuz this certainly beats the hell out of milk."

Jack downed the remainder of his whiskey as the group broke out in raucous laughter.

It was a great start to a day, and one Sarah Gardner would remember for a long time to come.

With these fine people to help her along the way, maybe she'd make it in this world after all.


	19. Guardian Angel

Guardian Angel

Fandom: Stargate SG-1 

Rated: G

Category: Gen, Supernatural, Double Drabble.

Season: Two

Spoilers: Spirits

Summary: Someone's Watching Over Jack O'Neill.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 22 (Angel)…_

_XXX_

The arrow plunged through the event horizon like a diver entering deep water.

It continued on its course unerringly.

If it was gifted with sight, it would have seen its unwitting target directly in its path.

It pierced the next barrier to its target as easily as a hot knife slips though butter.

Unnoticed by anyone, the arrow was poised to deliver a killing blow.

The target's heart beat steadily in the line of fire.

In a few seconds, that heart would stop, lanced by the arrow.

There was no way to avoid it.

The arrow was almost there.

But then, inexplicably, it jumped sideways and dove into a different tissue.

The target still fell, but there was no overwhelming outpour of blood from his wound.

There was no cardiac muscle surrounding the arrow's wicked point.

Instead, the arrow found itself buried in the smooth meat of a large skeletal muscle.

And the man found himself with a painful, but not fatal, wound to the arm.

A masculine voice rang out.

"Everyone alright?"

The target groaned. "Uh, no…"

And somewhere very far away yet very near, a boy smiled.

"You will be," assured the boy. "It's not your time, Dad."


	20. Solitary Dancer

Solitary Dancer

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis 

Rated: G

Category: Gen or Super Mild J/S, Depending on Reader Perspective, Friendship, Double Drabble.

Season: Four.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Sometimes You Have To Get Away From It All.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 23 (Music Box)…_

_XXX_

Samantha Carter was the commander of Atlantis.

She rarely had time for indulgences.

She was constantly frenetically busy. If it wasn't the Wraith beating down her door, it was the replicators. Or worse, Rodney McKay.

It seemed like she never had a free minute to think, let alone relax.

But she did have a few guilty pleasures, and it was time for one of them tonight.

She spied the little box from across the room and walked to it. She still remembered the day she'd found it, as she unpacked her things when she first got to Atlantis.

She'd been surprised, then overwhelmed when she found the accompanying note.

_Sam-_

_I know what command is like. And from one commander to another, I suggest you find a way to let it all go sometimes. For me, it was headphones and some serious opera. Yes, opera. I figured this was more your style. Take the time to dance, Carter. You'll need it._

_-Jack_

Carter lifted the lid on the delicate wooden box and smiled as soft chiming music filled her quarters.

She listened to the lilting tune she knew so well for several moments in absolute stillness.

And then… she danced.


	21. Guiding Light

Guiding Light

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

Rated: G

Category: Gen, Supernatural, Open Character Focus.

Season: Any

Spoilers: None

Summary: Sometimes Help Comes From Unexpected Places.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 24 (Star)…_

_XXX_

I've been here three days.

Three miserable, lonely days filled with hunger, thirst, and desperation.

The days here are short and the nights are very long and very cold.

There is no moon, and there are no stars.

Not a single pinprick of light penetrates the utter darkness of this despondent ball of rock at night.

Don't ask me to explain how that's possible, but it's true.

For three days, I've hidden. And for three long nights, I've tried to get to the Gate.

But I can't find it. I have no idea where it is or even how I got here, wherever here is.

My last memory is of setting up camp just outside a small settlement. I slept during first watch.

I woke in the woods, cold, hungry, wet… and alone.

My team is gone, and the Gate isn't anywhere nearby.

My search pattern has yielded nothing.

I don't even know where to start tonight, and hunger and fatigue are starting to wear me down inexorably. I can feel myself starting to not care if I ever get back.

I have to rest for a moment. Only a moment.

I sit and lean my head back on the nearest tree and my eyes drift closed.

I know I shouldn't sleep, but it feels so good to relax that I convince myself I can rest for just a second.

My eyes open much later than I'd intended. My joints are stiff with sleep, and I curse under my breath.

Dammit!

I search the sky for signs of the approaching day, wondering how long I've dozed.

There are none.

The sun is not beginning its journey above the horizon.

But I see something I haven't before.

Its presence so shocks me that I stare at it for what feels like a very long time before I move.

A star!

One puny little spark struggles to be seen in the opaque sky of utter desolation.

My feet begin to follow the heading the star points out without thought, but I realize my motion after only a minute. I stop, thinking thoughts about omens and such that don't make sense. Why should I follow this heading as opposed to any other? I shake my head to clear it and decide that since nothing else has helped me in this place, I'll just go with it.

At least this might keep me from going in circles.

As that idea dances across my brain, a small smile graces my lips.

Perhaps this little star can guide me home, after all.

XXX

Somehow, against all odds, the little star never leaves me. It shines brightly through my journey, even nearly showing itself by day, until two days later, when my hunch finally pays off.

As the event horizon slides over my skin like baby oil, and I know I'm going home.

And I thank the heavens for their help.

Literally.


	22. Improvisation

Improvisation

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis 

Rated: G

Category: Gen, Christmas, Double Drabble.

Season: One

Spoilers: None

Summary: Teyla Makes Do With What She's Got.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge: 

_December 24 (Turkey)…extra 'pick a prompt' for fun…_

_XXX_

Teyla Emmagan didn't pretend to understand a lot about the Earth holiday of 'Christmas'.

However, she knew it was important to many of the Tau'ri of Atlantis, so she tried to learn all she could about the traditions of the holiday.

Her team knew Teyla as a warrior and a leader among her people, but that hadn't always been the case.

Once, she'd been a little girl at her grandmother's knee, and she'd learned to cook. Many on Atlantis would've been surprised to learn that Teyla had always been gifted in the culinary arts. She could make a satisfying meal out of most anything. It had been a necessary skill for most of her life.

Teyla grinned as she put her skills to the test now.

This wasn't something she did often anymore, but she enjoyed it.

When her people had discovered this large bird on the mainland, they'd quickly learned to prepare it as food.

Teyla used some of their techniques and some of her own invention now as she seasoned her feast.

When she was done, she tasted a small sample and smiled.

It wasn't quite the 'turkey' she'd been told of, but it sure was awfully close.


	23. Animal Encounters

Animal Encounters

Fandom: Stargate SG-1 

Rated: G

Category: Gen, Humor, A Little Christmassy.

Season: Any, Original Team.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Jack Makes A New Friend.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 24 (Reindeer)…extra 'pick a prompt' for fun…_

_XXX_

A soft breath tickles my cheek.

A warm rush flows over my face as I roll over.

I could've sworn I fell asleep in my sleeping bag under the open sky of P4X-274 last night.

I must remember incorrectly.

Because now a soft velvet caresses my forehead.

I must be comfortably encased in the richest satin sheets of the finest bed in the world.

And I must not be alone, which is a more than nice thought.

Either that or I'm dreaming.

Somehow, my cynical brain bets on the latter.

I crack on eye open to determine which of these fates is mine.

The scene that meets my vision is neither.

A huge, brown, furry head fills my entire visual field. It looks like some sort of cross between a moose and a camel, and it's terrifying.

The soft muzzle of the beast nuzzles me intently every time I try to move.

How is this happening?

Where the hell is my team?

I scan what little I can see on either side of the giant face, and finally I find them. They're still encased in their sleeping bags, too, but they've obviously been awake longer than me.

Daniel is literally rolling on the ground laughing at me.

Carter is doing her best to stifle giggles, but failing miserably.

And Teal'c, well, even Teal'c is chuckling fearlessly.

I bawl at them in frustration. "Would somebody tell me what's going on?"

Carter swallows a laugh and responds in a giddy voice. "Well, sir, it looks like we guessed correctly that there were no threats to us on this planet. Apparently the local wildlife agrees about us. They must not have had any contact with threatening species in generations, for this animal to be so inquisitive about you."

Daniel tries to agree but still can't speak without laughing, so Teal'c speaks next.

"Indeed. The animal appears to be quite endeared with you, O'Neill."

I've had enough by now. "Alright, alright, fine. Point taken. Would somebody shoo it away so I can get up?"

Daniel finally chimes in. "I don't think we should. He's such a nice little guy."

I sigh. Looks like it's up to me. "Fine."

I shoo my hands toward the huge brown head and it backs away slightly, then blinks at me.

I take my chance to extricate myself from my sleeping bag and my team follows suit.

We're dressed, geared up, and ready for the three mile hike back to the gate in no time.

My living alarm clock merely watches all of this from a distance.

I figure he'll get bored after a while and just wander back to wherever he came from.

XXX

I was wrong.

All the way back to the gate, we have company.

The beast does seem to like me, and frankly the gangly creature simply won't leave. It's becoming more than a little annoying to have a four-legged, ruminant fifth member of my team constantly bringing up the rear.

And the conversation among the three bipeds in my group doesn't help. They gave up trying to decide what Earth species my new buddy most resembles about halfway to the gate and started trying to name him instead, and that conversation is still going strong.

"I believe 'Bambi' would be a suitable appellation," proclaims Teal'c.

Carter shakes her head. "No. Too cliché. Besides, this guy's a lot bigger than Bambi. How about 'Griz'? Like a bear."

"I do not believe the animal resembles a bear, Major Carter," argues Teal'c. He has a point.

"That's not the point, Teal'c. I just thought it'd be a cool name."

Daniel finally contributes to this little exchange just as he dials the gate.

"I think we should call it 'Cupid'."

I join Carter and Teal'c in staring at him as the chevrons begin to light on the gate. If this were February, I might understand his thought, but it's the end of November. Where does he come up with this stuff?

He notices our stares and explains himself.

"No, really. The big guy sure seems enamored of Jack. And 'Cupid' was one of Santa's reindeer, you know. So, it fits two ways."

I close my eyes in resigned understanding. I'm less than thrilled with this analogy, but Carter and Teal'c both nod, and I look over my shoulder to see my new friend still present.

"What do you think of 'Cupid', huh?" I shout to the animal.

Just then, the wormhole whooshes open and that actually startles the beast enough that he takes off into the woods around the gate.

"Thank God," I mumble. "I was going to have a heck of a time explaining that one to Hammond if he followed us through."

Everyone laughs as Carter and Teal'c step through the gate first.

Daniel's about to go next when he suddenly stops. I look at him in confusion for a moment as an amused grin slides across his face.

"What?"

Daniel shakes his head. "Nothing. Just…"

He bows deeply and extends one arm gracefully toward the event horizon. His voice, when he speaks, is so sickly sweet I'm surprised I don't instantly need an insulin shot.

"After you, Santa."

I step past him and give him an intentionally too hard bump on the shoulder as I do, just for fun.

He deserves it.

After all, there's only one thing from this mission I'm sure of.

I'm so never hearing the end of this.


	24. Dietary Indiscretion

Dietary Indiscretion

Fandom: Stargate SG-1 

Rated: G

Category: Gen, Christmas, Team.

Season: Two-ish. Original Team Plus Cassie Present. Cassie is still pretty young.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Christmas Eve Doesn't Always Go Down According To Plans.

Disclaimer: Just Playing In The Gate Room, Don't Mind Me.

For The Ancient Obsessions Advent Challenge:

_December 25 (Personal Christmas)…just for fun…_

_This is my last advent story for this year. I wrote a few extras from the 'pick and choose' list of this challenge because I combined a few earlier prompts and I wanted to give you guys twenty-four fics, as that seems only fair. I hope you've enjoyed reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them. I'm off for a while, I think, but I'll be back soon with something new! This challenge was a blast, but other works have been left behind…soon, my friends, soon…_

_Oh, and this story isn't my personal Christmas per se, but parts of it have been lifted from many real experiences through the years. Enjoy! -wabbit_

_XXX_

Doctor Janet Fraiser strode briskly into the waiting room and skewered Colonel Jack O'Neill with eyes that could've melted steel.

Jack seemed suddenly a much smaller man. His shoulders hunched and his head bowed, as if he expected a blow. His facial expression was one of a child knowing he's in serious trouble.

A punch or slap never came, but the auburn-haired physician immediately assaulted Jack with a thousand questions.

"What happened? When? Have they taken radiographs? What are the symptoms? How are they treating this?"

Jack raised his hand to fend off the tirade and took one small step away from Fraiser, who continued to berate him.

"Did you find out if we can visit? How long will he have to be here?"

Janet paused long enough to take a breath and Jack took his chance to speak.

"Look, the doc said she'd be out in a few minutes. She can answer all this stuff better than me."

Janet glared at Jack and her mood seemed like a raindrop of pure anger frozen in time for a moment, but slowly that raindrop evaporated into a steam of resignation and she sighed.

"Fine."

Jack visibly relaxed and led Fraiser over to the chairs in the waiting room.

They were there only two minutes when Sam came screaming into the hospital with Cassandra in tow. The interrogation was repeated, this time including copious amounts of whining by Cassie.

Jack closed his eyes and sighed when everything settled down again.

'This is no way to spend Christmas Eve,' he thought.

His musings were interrupted by a low growl from Fraiser.

"This is your fault, you know."

Jack didn't even try to deny that. "I know."

If Janet was surprised by Jack's admission, she didn't show it. "I mean, you were supposed to be watching him! And it's your fault he's here anyway!"

"I know," admitted Jack again. His own guilt was already far worse than anything Fraiser could throw at him, and he began to feel brittle strings of self recrimination pulling him into a deep depression, but his melancholy and the rest of Janet's speech were cut short by the hospital doors flying open again.

A cold burst of December wind preceded the arrival of Daniel and Teal'c.

'Great,' thought Jack. 'The gang's all here.'

Daniel was so agitated he couldn't even speak when he arrived, so Teal'c looked directly to Janet and asked the question on everyone's mind for the third time in ten minutes.

"What is the status of the patient?"

Janet gave him an exaggerated shrug. "No clue. The doctor is supposed to be out in a few minutes, right, Colonel?"

Jack nodded and grimaced. Janet's tone was accusatory, and if this had been any other situation, he would've given her a hard time about insubordination, but he couldn't bring himself to care now.

Daniel and Teal'c pinned Jack with stern looks, as Sam tried to comfort a still upset Cassie.

Jack lifted a silent prayer that the doc would hurry the heck up.

His prayers were answered within moments.

A swirling white lab coat and an opening door announced the arrival of the doctor, and relief was obvious on Jack's face.

All six people present stood to meet the woman as she emerged from the back of the hospital.

"Well, the family has grown. Who should I talk to here?"

Janet stepped forward and raised one hand slightly. "That would be me. I'm a medical doctor."

The doctor turned to her shorter counterpart and took a deep breath. She seemed simultaneously relieved and nervous to be talking to a fellow professional. "Hi. I'm Dr. Francis. Okay, frankly, the patient is stable at this time. However, I'm afraid we're going to need to perform an exploratory laparotomy to see what we're dealing with. The x-rays show an obstructive pattern."

Janet sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose while the other members of the group looked at one another in confusion. After a moment, Janet spoke in a quiet, resigned voice.

"Fine."

"Good. We'll proceed to surgery immediately," said Francis.

Janet held up one hand. "Just one question. May we visit first?"

"Of course," replied Francis. "But not all of you at once. It's a bit crowded in here tonight."

Cassie piped up immediately at these words. "Can I go, Mom? Please?"

Janet nodded. "Yes. All us girls will go. You boys stay here." She gave the Colonel another pointed look and huffed off after Dr. Francis.

When Cassie, Sam, and Janet were gone, Jack heaved a mighty sigh. "Thank God."

Daniel looked at the older man and blinked. "They have every right to be mad, Jack."

Jack stared back at Daniel incredulously. "You, too?"

"Well, it did happen on your watch, and it is Christmas Eve. That adds a whole new level of stress to things for all of us."

Jack shrugged. "True. It was an accident, though, honest."

"I know."

"I mean, like I'd let that happen on purpose."

Teal'c finally re-entered the conversation. "Indeed. I do not believe you would ever allow such a thing to occur intentionally."

O'Neill nodded to the large Jaffa. "Thanks, T."

The female visit to the back of the hospital was short lived. After insuring that things were up to her comfort level, even Janet soon rejoined the men in the waiting area. She'd tried to stay behind, but was told that legally and from a liability standpoint she would not be allowed to assist in any procedures.

Fraiser understood that all too well, and took her place next to Cassie and Teal'c in the waiting room. A nurse escorted them out, and turned to Janet before leaving.

"Are you going to wait here for the operation to be completed or should I call you?"

Jack spoke up quickly, cutting across any response Janet had ready. "I'll stay."

Daniel nodded in agreement. "Me, too."

Sam and Cassie both proclaimed that they would stay, as well.

Janet looked to Teal'c for his response. His deep voice responded within seconds. "I, too, shall remain here."

Janet nodded to the nurse. "I guess we're all staying."

The nurse nodded back. "I'll send word as soon as we know something."

And then she was gone in a flurry of pink scrubs.

Jack O'Neill, Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, Cassandra Fraiser, Teal'c, and Janet Fraiser settled in for a long wait.

Christmas Eve or not, they weren't going anywhere.

XXX

Two hours later, their wait was over.

Dr. Francis reappeared suddenly just as another family rushed into the waiting room from outside. The place was getting crowded, and several other emergencies had come and gone while SG-1 and their friends waited.

As Dr. Francis made her way over to the group, she motioned for them to remain seated. She took a seat opposite them in the waiting room, and everyone knew she was taking this moment to sit down while she could. It was obviously a busy night for her.

She spoke without delay, updating the group quickly.

"He's going to be fine."

Janet asked the only question anyone had for the group. "You were able to remove it?"

Francis nodded. "Yes, and there was minimal inflammation around the insult. We didn't have to remove any tissue. The bottom line is that your dog is going to be fine."

SG-1 and company visibly relaxed, and Cassie quietly asked a question.

"Can we see him?"

Francis hesitated and Fraiser stepped in without thought. "Probably not right now, honey. He's sleeping. Like Uncle Jack does after he has surgery. It's best if we let him rest."

Francis nodded her agreement. "We'll keep him overnight for observation and IV fluids, but he can probably go home tomorrow."

Janet nodded. "Ok. Do you need anything else from us?"

Francis shook her head. "No. We can take care of everything in the morning."

The small group, including Dr. Francis, slowly stood and dispersed. Francis returned to the back of the emergency veterinary hospital, and the others stretched their legs and began to pull on hats, gloves, and jackets in preparation for heading back out into the cold December night.

As Carter pulled on her coat, she spotted a clock on the wall above the reception desk.

"Hey, guys! Look at that! It's after midnight. Merry Christmas!"

The others glanced at the clock and grinned. Cassie began to hop up and down like a bunny and started babbling like the child she still was. This was only her second Christmas, after all. She had a right to be excited.

"Can we go open presents, Mom? Please?"

Janet sighed. "It can wait until morning, Cassie."

Cassandra would hear none of it. "But it's already Christmas!"

It had been a long night, and Frasier was pretty thin on patience. "I said no, Cass. It's late, I'm hungry, we're all tired, and there's a lot to do before morning, so NO."

Cassie began to pout in earnest, and things looked like they were in danger of escalating to a full-blown tantrum when Jack's voice cut smoothly into the melee.

"Tell you what, Cass. If it's ok with your mom, then maybe we can all go to my house for a bit now. We can have some cocoa and cookies and MAYBE open the presents that are there and then you can head home and have Christmas with your mom in the morning. That ok, Doc?"

Janet considered for a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Lord knows there's nowhere else to get food at this hour on Christmas Eve."

Sam, Daniel, and Teal'c also agreed to join the little party, and before long everyone found themselves at the Colonel's house. Cookies and cocoa weren't the only things served.

Liquor, food, and friendship flowed freely, and it turned out that no one left that night at all. Janet and Cassie would have their home Christmas much later than was planned. Other plans would be changed, too, but no one complained as they fell asleep one by one in various positions on Jack's couch and living room floor.

Despite their non-traditional and not-so-fun Christmas Eve activity of waiting for news of a beloved dog undergoing surgery in an emergency veterinary clinic, everyone was warmed by the love of friends and the fact that Jack's little pound puppy, now Cassandra Fraiser's best friend on this or any other planet, was going to be ok.

When everyone was fast asleep, Jack O'Neill crept slowly past his slumbering guests to his Christmas tree. He meticulously moved every single ornament high above the reach of one black and tan short-legged monster of a dog who thought that snarfing down baubles was the best fun to be had in the world.

The vet had called the dog's issue 'dietary indiscretion'. Jack O'Neill called it stupidity.

Everyone had forgiven him for allowing the dog to swallow the ornament that had caused all this trouble to begin with, but it was, after all, better safe than sorry.

Or in this case, better late than never.


End file.
